iirx 


GKIPir  OIF 
Milton  Neiraiark 


W<u^  I^Vo^^ukM^ 


SIR  ROGER  DE   COVERLET 

ESSAYS 
FROM   THE   SPECTATOR 


llHacmillan'0  pocket  lEnglisf)  Classfce;, 


A  Series  of  English  Texts,  edited  for  use  in 

Secondary  Schools,  with  Cntical 

Introductions,  Notes,  etc. 


l6mo.  Levanteen.  25c.  each. 


Macaulay's  Essay  on  Addison. 
Macaulay's  Essay  on  Milton. 
Tennyson's  The  Princess. 
Eliot's  Silas  Marner. 
Coleridge's  The  Ancient  Mariner. 
Cooper's  The  Last  of  the  Mohicans. 
Burke's  Speech  on  Conciliation 
Pope's  Homer's  Iliad. 
Goldsmith's  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 
Shakespeare's  Macbeth. 
Addison's  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley. 
Shakespeare's  The  Merchant  of  Venice. 
Dryden's  Palamon  and  Arcite. 
Byron's  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage. 


OTHERS   TO    FOLLOW. 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcinive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/decoverleyessaysOaddirich 


JOSEPH  ADDISON 


SIR   ROGER    DE   COVERLEY 

ESSAYS  FROM  THE   SPECTATOR 

BY 

ADDISON^  AND   STEELE 

EDITED 

WITH  NOTES  AND  AN  INTRODUCTION 

BY 

ZELMA   GRAY 

INSTRUCTOR  OF  ENGLISH  IN  THE   EAST  SIDE   HIGH  SCHOOL 
SAGINAW,  MICHIGAN 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Ltd. 

1899 

^  All  rights  reserved 


QUh-A.  "C  JUm 


Copyright,  1899 
By  the  MACMILLAN   COMPANY 


i.  S.  Cushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


<^^ocL 


Af 


1^99 


Jlr 


CONTENTS 


Introduction 

I.     The  Spectator's  Account  of  himself 

Spectator  No.  1.  AMison. 

II.     Description  of  Club  Members  . 

Spectator  No.  2.  Steele, 

III.  Sir  Roger's  Opinion  of  True  Wisdom 

Spectator  No.  6.  Steele. 

IV.  Sir  Roger  at  the  Club      .         .         .         . 

Spectator  No.  34.  Addison. 

V.     Sir  Roger  at  his  Country  House     . 

Spectator  No.  106.  Addison. 

YI.     The  Coverlet  Household  .         .         .         . 
Spectator  No.  107.  Steele. 

VII.     Sir  Roger  and  Will  Wimble    . 

Spectator  No.  108.  Addison. 


PAGE 

ix 


16 


21 


27 


33 


38 


M633317 


VI  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

VIII.     A  Sunday  at  Sir  Koger's        ....      43 
Spectator  No.  112.  Addison, 

IX.     Sir  Roger  and  the  Widow      .         .        .         .48 
Spectator  No.  113.  Steele, 

X.     Bodily  Exercise        ....         o         .       56 
Spectator  No.  115.  Addison. 

XI.     The  Coverley  Hunt 61 

Spectator  No.  116.  Budgell. 

XII.     The  Coverley  Witch 69 

Spectator  No.  117.  Addison, 

XIII.  Sir  Roger's  Discourse  on  Love      ...       74 

Spectator  No.  118.  Steele. 

XIV.  Town  and  Country  Manners  ....   81 

Spectator  No.  119.  Addison, 

XV.     Sir  Roger  at  the  Assizes        ....       85 
Spectator  No.  122.  Addison. 

XVI.     Sir  Roger  and  Party  Spirit  ....       91 
Spectator  No.  125.  Addison. 

XVII.     Sir  Roger  and  the  Gypsies     ....      97 
Spectator  No.  130.  Addison, 


CONTENTS  Vii 

PAGE 

XVIII.     Why  the  Spectator  leaves  Coverlet  Hall     102 
Spectator  No.  131.  Addison. 

XIX.     The     Spectator's   Experience    in    a    Stage- 
coach   107 

Spectator  No.  132.  Steele. 

XX.     Street  Cries  of  London 113 

Spectator  No.  251.  Addison. 

XXL     Sir  Roger  in  Town  .        .        .         .         .         .119 

Spectator  No.  269.  Addison. 

XXII.     Sir  Eoger  in  Westminster  Abbey  .         .     125 

Spectator  No.  329.  Addison. 

XXIII.  Sir  Roger  at  the  Theatre     ....     131 

Spectator  No.  335.  Addison, 

XXIV.  Will  Honeycomb's  Love-making     .         .         .     137 

Spectator  No.  359.  Budgell. 

XXV.     Sir  Roger  at  Vauxhall  Gardens  .         .         .     141 
Spectator  No.  383.  Addison. 

XXVI.     Death  of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley         .         .     146 
Spectator  No.  517.  Addison. 

Notes •     155 


INTRODUCTION 


In  order  to  appreciate  fully  the  merits  of  an  author, 
it  is  necessary  to  throw  a  search-light  upon  the  period 
in  which  he  wrote.  His  writings  should  not  be  studied 
alone,  isolated  from  their  companions,  but  should  be 
viewed  in  relation  to  their  social,  political,  and  his- 
torical conditions.  This  is  particularly  advisable  in 
criticising  the  literature  of  a  previous  century  whose 
customs,  manners,  tastes,  and  opinions  differ  so  widely 
from  those  of  our  own.  We  must  obliterate  our  preju- 
dices and  fixed  ideas ;  must  shut  our  eyes  to  the 
present,  and  transporting  ourselves  to  the  past,  live  in 
spirit  with  the  people  of  that  time,  be  participants 
in  their  work,  their  recreations,  their  joys,  and  their 
sorrows;  must  eat  at  their  tables  and  take  part  in 
their  conversations ;  must  wear  the  clothes  they  wore, 
travel  the  roads  they  travelled,  read  the  books  they 
read,  visit  the  people  whom  they  visited,  appreciate 
their  hindrances  and  limitations,  and  survey  the  whole 
field,  not  with  a  satirical,  fault-finding  spirit,  but  with 
clear  vision  and  sympathetic  comradeship. 


X  INTRODUCTION 

With  this  purpose  in  mind,  let  us,  like  Gulliver  at 
Lilliput,  open  our  eyes  on  the  new  scene  —  the  Eng- 
land of  the  Queen  Anne  period,  from  the  latter  part 
of  the  seventeenth  century  to  the  early  middle  of  the 
eighteenth.  The  scene  naturally  divides  itself  into 
London,  and  that  which  is  not  London ;  and  the  latter, 
though  so  much  greater  in  magnitude,  may  be  quickly 
seen,  as  there  was  much  sameness  throughout  in  cus- 
toms and  mode  of  living.  In  the  country,  roads  were 
poor  and  neglected,  and  the  country  people  travelled 
but  little  —  mainly  on  horseback.  When  it  was  neces- 
sary for  a  man  to  go  to  London,  —  and  he  who  had 
been  to  London  "  had  seen  the  world,"  and  was  looked 
upon  with  a  degree  of  awe  and  respect  by  his  simple 
countrymen,  —  he  could  walk  to  the  nearest  main  road, 
and  at  a  given  time,  take  the  stage-coach  which  passed 
once  a  week  on  its  way  to  the  great  metropolis.  Pub- 
lic schools  were  being  instituted,  but  they  were  few, 
and  most  people  were  uneducated  —  could  neither  read 
nor  write.  Society,  in  its  accepted  term,  was  confined 
to  the  comparatively  few  wealthy  landowners  who 
kept  large  numbers  of  horses  and  hounds,  and  when 
at  home  filled  their  mansions  with  guests  who  de- 
lighted in  hunting,  the  chase,  and  the  other  amuse- 
ments which  the  free-hearted  host  could  originate. 
On  portions  of  the  estates  were  grouped  the  little 
homes  of  the  tenants ;  and  these,  with  an  occasional 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

small  village  where  the  farmers  gathered  and  dis- 
cussed the  price  of  crops,  or  told  to  open-mouthed, 
eager  listeners  the  latest  scandal  or  gossip  retailed  by 
the  servants  of  the  gentry,  gave  life  to  the  slow-going 
and  lonely  country. 

But  the  well-to-do  people  were  spending  less  and 
less  time  in  their  country  seats,  and  more  and  more 
in  the  growing  towns,  where  congregated  learning, 
business,  wealth,  and  society.  Many  cities  were  grow- 
ing ;  but  the  most  prominent  one  was  London,  which 
was,  and  is,  to  England,  what  Paris  is  to  Prance,  or 
Athens  was  to  Greece  —  the  centre  of  all  progress  and 
culture.  Almost  any  theologian  of  note  in  England 
was  to  be  found  "  either  in  the  episcopate  or  at  the 
head  of  a  London  parish ;  '^  here  came  all  authors  and 
would-be  authors;  here  was  the  active  and  turbid 
stream  of  manufacturing  and  commercial  life;  here 
was  the  court  with  its  attendant  vices  and  virtues, 
and  Parliament  with  its  frequent  assemblings;  and 
here  was  the  gayest  and  most  frivolous  society  of  all 
England,  with  its  vulgarity,  licentiousness,  and  law- 
lessness. 

The  question  which  is  perplexing  the  anxious,  over- 
burdened man  of  the  nineteenth  century,  "  Is  life  worth 
living  ?  "  might,  with  some  propriety,  have  been  asked 
in  the  eighteenth  of  the  social  dawdler  whose  days 
were  rounds  of   sensual  pleasures.     Thackeray  says, 


XU  INTRODUCTION 

"I  have  calculated  the  manner  in  which  statesmen 
and  persons  of  condition  passed  their  time  —  and  what 
with  drinking  and  dining,  and  supping  and  cards, 
wonder  how  they  got  through  with  their  business  at 
all/'  The  fine  gentleman  rose  late,  and  sauntered  in 
the  Mall  —  the  fashionable  promenade  which  we  are 
told  was  always  full  of  idlers,  but  especially  so  morn- 
ing and  evening  when  their  Majesties  often  walked 
with  the  royal  family.  After  his  walk  the  society 
man,  dressed  elaborately  and  in  his  periwig,  cocked 
hat,  skirt-coat  wired  to  make  it  stick  out,  ruffled 
linen,  black  silk  hose,  square-toed  shoes,  and  buckles, 
gaily  betook  himself  to  the  coffee-house  or  chocolate- 
house.  Here  he  lounged,  and  over  the  steaming  cup 
discussed  the  latest  news  from  abroad,  from  Parlia- 
ment, from  society.  As  there  were  few  conveniences 
in  the  homes  for  entertaining,  it  was  the  custom  to 
dine  with  a  friend  or  two  at  the  tavern,  where  hilarity 
prevailed,  and  drunkenness  was  a  trifling  incident, 
attaching  no  shame  or  disgrace  to  the  offender.  Din- 
ner over,  the  coffee-house  again,  or  possibly  the  club, 
occupied  the  attention,  and  the  theatre  or  gaming- 
table finished  the  day  for  this  man  of  quality  who 
■perhaps  had  no  uneasy  consciousness  of  time  wasted. 

And  the  life  of  the  fine  lady  was  equally  purpose- 
less. The  social  pulse  may  always  be  determined  by 
the  position  of  woman;    and  woman  in  this   period 


INTHODUCTION  xiii 

neither  commanded  nor  received  respect.  In  the  mid- 
dle classes  might  be  found  many  a  practical  mother 
who  enjoyed  her  household  duties,  and  was  content 
in  the  four  walls  of  her  home.  But  throughout  the 
higher  classes  the  fine  lady  was  not  supposed  to  be  a 
homekeeper;  she  was  not  supposed  to  be  educated; 
she  was  not  required  to  be  more  refined  than  was  con- 
sistent with  present  pleasure.  Nothing  was  done, 
and  nothing  was  expected  to  be  done,  to  bring  ilito 
action  those  nobler  qualities  which  we  now  recognize 
as  essential  to  womanhood.  Society  existed  for  men  ; 
and  woman  was  admitted,  not  because  of  her  inherent 
right  to  be  there  to  purify,  to  uplift,  to  inspire,  but 
because  she  could  amuse  and  charm  away  a  weary 
hour  while  she  idly  flirted  her  fan,  and  gave  inane 
responses  to  the  insipid  compliments  of  the  vain,  con- 
ceited beaux. 

One  of  these  social  ornaments  tells  us  how  she  spent 
her  time.  She  says,  '^  I  lie  in  bed  till  noon,  dress  all 
the  afternoon,  drive  in  the  evening,  and  play  at  cards 
till  midnight ; ''  and  adds  that  she  goes  to  church  twice 
a  year  or  oftener,  according  as  her  husband  gives  her 
new  clothes,  and  spends  the  remainder  of  Sabbath  in 
gossiping  of  "  new  fashions  and  new  plays."  A  lady's 
diary  in  Spectator  reads :  ^'  Shifted  a  patch  for  half  an 
hour  before  I  could  determine  it.  Fixed  it  above  my 
left  eyebrow  J ''  and  again,  "Called  for  my  flowered 


XIV  INTRODUCTION 

handkerchief.  Worked  half  a  leaf  on  it.  Eyes 
ached  and  head  out  of  order.  Threw  by  my  work,  and 
read  over  the  remaining  part  of  Aurengzebe.^'  When 
driven  by  ennui  to  books,  she  chose  —  if  choice  it 
could  be  called  when  there  were  so  few  other  books 
available  —  "  lewd  plays  and  winning  romances/'  thus 
serving  to  heighten  the  superficial  atmosphere  in 
which  she  lived. 

But  prominent  in  society  was  the  young  beau  —  of 
whom  our  dude  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  a  feeble 
copy  —  who  imitated  the  fine  gentlemen  in  all  their 
weaknesses  and  sins,  intensifying  them  in  his  *^  airy 
conceit "  and  lofty  flippancy.  He,  too,  frequented  the 
Mall,  coffee-house,  and  theatre,  hobnobbing  with  other 
beaux  as  aimless  and  brainless  as  himself,  boasting 
the  charms  of  his  many  friends,  and  his  latest  con- 
quest. His  dress,  which  was  usually  of  bright  colors, 
occupied  much  of  his  attention,  and  his  cane  and 
ever-present  snuff-box  much  more.  "He  scorns  to 
condescend  so  low  as  to  speak  of  any  person  beneath 
the  dignity  of  a  nobleman ;  the  Duke  of  such  a  place, 
and  my  Lord  such  a  one,  are  his  common  cronies, 
from  whom  he  knows  all  the  secrets  of  the  court,  but 
does  not  impart  'em  to  his  best  friend  because  the 
Duke  enjoined  him  to  secrecy."  He  was  so  happily 
unconscious  of  his  own  vacuity  that  he  paraded  his 
weakness,  thinking  it  wisdom.     Yet,  insufferable  as 


IN  TROD  UCTION  XV 

he  seems  to  us,  "  lie  was  an  institution  of  the  times/' 
and  was  petted  and  adored  by  the  ladies. 

Society  was  permeated  with  corrupt  ideas  and 
morals,  and  the  strange  fact  is  that  these  were  openly 
accepted  and  approved.  No  man  had  confidence  in  his 
neighbor  because  he  knew  of  his  own  unworthiness, 
and  could  conceive  of  no  reason  why  his  companion 
should  care  to  be  better  than  he  was  himself.  Eobert 
Walpole's  declaration,  that  every  man  has  his  price, 
was  then  painfully  true,  and  nobody  denied  it  or  seemed 
ashamed  of  the  fact.  The  unusual  was  not  that  men 
should  be  bad,  but  that  they  should  be  good.  Men 
priding  themselves  on  their  honor,  and  engaging  in  a 
duel  to  prove  this  so-called  honor  as  readily  as  they 
ordered  their  horses  for  hunting,  yet  slandered  the 
ladies,  flirted  outrageously  with  other  men's  wives, 
cheated  at  cards,  and  contracted  debts  they  knew  they 
were  unable  to  pay.  Women  pretending  to  be  friends, 
lost  no  opportunity  of  back-biting  and  defaming  one 
another.  Social  gatherings  were  based,  not  on  merit 
of  individuals,  nor  congeniality  of  taste,  but  on  a 
feverish  craving  for  excitement  and  admiration,  or  the 
laudable  desire  to  kill  time. 

Men  might  talk  rationally  and  sensibly  when  with 
one  another,  but  in  the  presence  of  women  they  uttered 
the  most  shallow  commonplaces  and  vapid  compli- 
ments, and  were  applauded  as  witty.      Through  all 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

conversation  there  was  an  undercurrent  of  insincerity 
and  sham  deference.  Addison  notes  this  and  makes 
his  protest.  "  The  world  is  grown  so  full  of  dissimu- 
lation and  compliment  that  men's  words  are  hardly 
any  significance  of  their  thoughts."  Accompanying 
this  most  extravagant  flattery  —  often  to  mere  stran- 
gers —  was  the  greatest  freedom  in  personal  relations, 
and  all  reserve  was  classed  as  prudish  and  affected. 

Both  men  and  women  gambled  openly  and  exces- 
sively, staking  even  their  clothes  when  purses  were 
empty.  Ward,  speaking  of  a  group  of  this  class,  said : 
"  They  are  gamesters  waiting  to  pick  up  some  young 
bubble  or  other  as  he  comes  from  his  chamber;  they 
are  men  whose  conditions  are  subject  to  more  revolu- 
tions than  a  weathercock,  or  the  uncertain  mind  of  a 
fantastical  woman.  They  are  seldom  two  days  in  one 
and  the  same  stations ;  they  are  one  day  very  richly 
dressed,  and  perhaps  out  at  elbows  the  next ; "  and  of 
woman  that  "  were  she  at  church  in  the  height  of  her 
devotions,  should  anybody  but  stand  at  the  church 
door  and  hold  up  the  knave  of  clubs,  she  would  take 
it  to  be  a  challenge,  and  starting  from  her  prayers, 
would  follow  as  a  deluded  traveller  his  ignis  fatuusy 
Furious  as  they  all  were  when  they  lost,  and  prone  to 
laxity  in  money  matters,  they  yet  looked  upon  a  gam- 
bling debt  as  one  necessary  to  be  paid.  "  Why,  sir, 
among  gentlemen,  that  debt  is  looked  upon  the  most 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

just  of  any ;  you  may  cheat  widows,  orphans,  trades- 
men, without  a  blush  j  but  a  debt  of  honor,  sir,  must 
be  paid.  I  could  name  you  some  noblemen  that  pay 
nobody  —  yet  a  debt  of  honor,  sir,  is  as  sure  as  their 
ready  money." 

But  there  were  many  diversions  besides  those  that 
have  been  mentioned.  These  vivacious,  restless,  super- 
ficial triflers  must  have  variety,  and  have  it  they  did. 
Periodical  suburban  fairs  were  held  —  somewhat  simi- 
lar to  our  modern  circus  —  where  at  different  booths 
one  might  enjoy  seeing  sword  dancing,  dancing  on  the 
rope,  acrobatic  agility,  puppet  shows,  monstrosities 
from  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  various  exhibitions 
more  or  less  refined.  In  process  of  time  the  fairs  be- 
came so  debasing  in  their  influence  that  Her  Majesty 
ordered  them  closed.  Cock-fighting  and  bull-baiting 
—  the  latter  being  a  fight  between  a  dog  and  a  bull 
tied  at  the  horns  with  a  rope  several  yards  long  — 
were  also  greatly  enjoyed. 

Next  to  the  club  and  gaming  table,  the  theatre  was 
probably  the  most  attractive  place  to  while  away  time. 
The  English  drama  which  during  the  reign  of  Eliza- 
beth reached  the  greatest  height,  and  began  to  descend, 
had  been  denounced  and  suppressed  by  the  Puritans. 
When  it  was  revived  under  the  dissolute  court  of 
Charles  II,  the  new  kind  of  drama  was  like  the  people, 
"  light,  witty,  and  immoral."     The  theatre  was  a  gath- 


XVlll  INTRODUCTION 

ering  place  for  all  classes,  high  and  low,  rich  and 
poor,  refined  and  coarse,  pure  and  impure,  and  the 
greatest  levity  and  license  prevailed.  Misson  says 
that  during  the  performance  the  audience  "chatter, 
toy,  play,  hear  and  not  hear."  This  state  of  things 
continued  during  Anne's  reign.  The  object  was  not  to 
interpret  life  or  teach  right  living.  As  Steele  asserts : 
"  The  understanding  is  dismissed  from  our  entertain- 
ments. Our  mirth  is  the  laughter  of  fools,  and  our 
admiration  is  the  wonder  of  idiots."  Plays  were  written 
by  men,  for  men,  and  were  usually  acted  by  men  — 
no  woman  having  appeared  on  the  stage  till  1660. 
Even  in  Queen  Anne's  reign,  so  few  actresses  were 
known  that  when  a  play  "  acted  by  all  women "  was 
advertised,  it  greatly  attracted  by  its  novelty,  the 
pleasure-seeking  crowd.  That  a  woman  might  be 
pure  and  womanly,  and  still  appear  on  the  stage,  was 
beyond  the  knowledge  or  comprehension  of  society. 
It  has  remained  for  the  nineteenth  century  to  make 
it  possible.  Queen  Anne  did  not  attend  the  theatre, 
and  she  strove  to  abolish  its  evils,  but  was  far  from 
successful. 

/^"In  observing  the  influences  which  were  slowly  bring- 
ing about  a  change  in  London  society,  too  much  impor- 
tance cannot  be  placed  upon  the  coffee-house,  "the 
centre  of  news,  the  lounge  of  the  idler,  the  rendezvous 
for  appointments,  the  mart  for  business  men."     We 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

have  nothing  corresponding  to  it  in  these  days,  because 
our  newspapers,  our  telephones,  our  electric  convey- 
ances, place  all  items  of  interest  before  the  city  at 
once,  and  such  resorts  are  unnecessary.  But  in  those 
times  the  coffee-house  was  the  magnetic  needle  and 
drew  all  London  by  its  powers.  Clergymen,  highway- 
men, noblemen,  beggars,  authors,  beaux,  courtiers, 
business  men,  collected  here  where  coffee  was  good 
and  cheap,  service  prompt  and  willing,  conversation 
interesting  and  witty,  and  where  a  free  and  easy  at- 
mosphere made  all.  feel  at  home.  Here  men  with 
opinions  found  eager  listeners  before  whom  they  might 
pose  as  oracles.  Here  un-ideaed  men  came  to  gain 
opinions  which  they  might  carry  away  and  impart  to 
their  admirers  as  original.  And  here  came  men  of 
intellect  to  enjoy  the  conversation  of  their  equals,  and 
sharpen  their  own  wits  in  the  contact.  The  influence 
of  the  coffee-house  radiated  to  all  parts  of  the  city,  and 
touched  business,  society,  church,  literature. 

While  the  coffee-houses  were  democratic,  —  "a  neutral 
meeting  ground  for  all  men,"  —  the  numerous  clubs 
were  naturally  more  exclusive.  New  ones  w^ere  con- 
tinually being  formed  by  a  knot  of  men  having  the  same 
intellectual  tastes,  common  business  pursuits,  oneness 
in  epicurean  appetites,  or  even  similar  endowments  in 
pounds  of  flesh.  From  the  Fat  Men's  Club,  which 
excluded  all  who  could  get  through  an  ordinary  door, 


XX  INTRODUCTION 

to  the  October  Club,  where  ^^  Tory  squires,  Parlia- 
ment men,  nourished  patriotism  with  October  ale/' 
and  the  Kit-Cat  Club,  frequented  by  the  great  writers 
of  the  day  —  Addison,  Congreve,  Arbuthnot  —  as  well 
as  by  the  great  Whig  partisans,  —  from  the  lowest  to 
the  highest,  —  there  was  usually  some  club  at  which 
''  the  learned  and  the  illiterate,  the  dull  and  the  airy, 
the  philosopher  and  the  buffoon,''  might  find  their 
counterparts  and  congenial  spirits.  Many  men  of  the 
eighteenth  century  received  their  greatest  intellectual 
impulse  in  these  clubs  and  coffee-houses,  and  were  as 
dependent  upon  them  for  their  happiness  as  those  of 
the  nineteenth  are  upon  their  newspapers. 

In  this  social  world  of  London,  but  scarcely  a  part 
of  it,  were  many  authors,  though  they  had  not  yet 
secured  a  foothold  which  enabled  them  to  live  merely 
by  the  pen.  The  garrets  in  Grub  Street  were  full 
of  these  toilers  who  earned  their  scanty  bread  and 
butter  by  taking  any  work  which  promised  support, 
often  "grinding  out  ideas  on  subjects  dictated  by  a 
taskmaster  and  foreign  to  their  taste."  There  was 
no  hope  of  emerging  from  their  obscurity  unless  some 
happy  accident  secured  the  notice  of  the  government 
and  resulted  in  a  pension ;  or  some  flattering  article 
from  their  pen  induced  a  nobleman  to  reach  out  a 
helping  hand  and  condescend  to  be  a  patron  in  return 
for  the  writer's  influence  in  political  affairs.     Collier 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

says,  "  It  was  Addison  and  Steele,  Pope  and  Swift, 
and  a  few  others  who  got  all  the  fame  and  the 
guineas,  who  drank  their  wine,  and  spent  their  after- 
noons in  the  saloons  of  the  great,  while  the  great 
majority  of  authors  starved  and  shivered  in  garrets, 
or  pawned  their  clothes  for  the  food  their  pens  could 
not  win." 

But  it  is  not  alone  the  number  of  noted  authors  nor 
the  thought  they  contributed  to  the  world  that  makes 
the  age  an  important  one  from  a  literary  point  of 
view.  They  showed  to  the  world,  what  it  had  never 
known  before,  the  great  value  of  literary  form.  The 
greatest  period  of  literary  activity  previous  to  this 
—  that  of  Elizabeth  —  was  far  superior  in  creative 
power;  and  as  "there  were  giants  in  those  days," 
their  genius  made  writing  natural  and  easy  as  well 
as  brilliant.  But  English  authors  had  never  con- 
sciously added  carefulness  in  diction,  in  sentence  struc- 
ture, in  rhythm,  to  their  power  of  expression,  until 
their  eyes  were  opened  after  the  return  of  Charles  II 
from  France.  From  that  time  the  "French  taste  for 
finish,  elegance,  and  correctness"  had  pervaded  the 
literature  of  England,  and  now  reached  the  height  of 
perfection  in  Pope.  All  literature  since  owes  a  debt 
of  gratitude  to  these  painstaking  strugglers.  They 
stopped  short  of  the  beauty  which  broadens,  the  love 
of  nature  which  inspires ;  but  by  their  sharp  criticisms, 


XXli  INTRODUCTION 

and  the  practice  of  their  own  theories,  they  made  it 
impossible  for  future  authors  to  write  in  a  careless, 
slipshod  manner. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  numerous  writers 
existed,  and  that  the  public  was  beginning  to  appre- 
ciate their  worth,  it  was  not  a  reading  age.  And  it 
was  quite  improbable  that  it  should  be  so,  as  the 
people  were  a  sensual  people,  and  the  writings  were 
precise,  intellectual,  and  did  not  appeal  to  the  great 
mass  of  ought-to-be-readers.  Even  if  books  had  been 
more  to  their  liking,  there  were  still  grave  hindrances. 
Many  could  not  read  intelligently,  books  were  expen- 
sive and  owned  by  the  few,  and  there  was  lacking  a 
literary  taste,  which  should  make  any  reading  desira- 
ble or  necessary  to  their  happiness.  Talking  was 
much  easier,  and  satisfied  them  completely ;  so  con- 
versation, fostered  by  club  and  coffee-house,  became 
naturally  the  medium  of  communication  and  informa- 
tion. What  this  conversation  degenerated  into  with- 
out the  feeding  power  of  books  has  been  already 
shown ;  and  it  may  easily  be  seen  that  this  great  need 
of  mental  stimulus  was  second  only  to  the  crying  want 
of  purer  morals. 

^  ^And  still  there  was  a  restless,  though  perhaps  an  un- 
conscious, craving  for  nobler  living,  higher  perceptions. 
The  Puritan  period,  with  all  its  distasteful  severities 
and  rigorous  demands,  revealed  a  nobility  of  purpose 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

and  a  grandeur  of  character  whose  influence  could 
not  be  eradicated.  Its  growth  was  checked  in  the 
reactionary,  lawless  rule  of  Charles,  yet  the  root  was 
not  dead,  and  was  slowly  but  surely  pushing  its  fibres 
more  and  more  into  responsive  ground.  Where  the 
age  of  Charles  was  aggressive,  Anne's  was  passive; 
where  the  former  gave  unbridled  license  in  defiance 
of  previous  restraint,  the  latter  was  immoral  because 
living  on  a  low  plane  had  become  habitual,  and  there 
was  little  opposition.  And  this  in  itself  makes  vice 
lifeless  because  there  is  no  wind  to  fan  the  flame. 
People  were  becoming  discontented  with  a  surfeit  of 
immorality,  and  only  waited  for  a  Moses  to  lead  them 
out  of  their  slavery. 

And  he  came  in  the  person  of  Addison,  who  with  his 
shrewd,  penetrating  common  sense  discerned  just  what 
was  needed  to  give  an  uplift  to  the  eighteenth  century. 
Swift  had  shown  his  disapproval,  but  his  bitter  sar- 
casms stung  and  did  not  effect  a  cure.  Defoe  also 
had  made  an  effort  to  reform  society,  but  he  lacked 
the  personality  necessary  to  touch  the  heart.  But  no 
man  ever  saw  more  clearly,  aimed  more  wisely,  or  hit 
the  mark  more  surely  than  did  Addison  in  the  pages 
of  the  Spectator,  What  Ben  Jon  son  tried  in  the 
Elizabethan  age,  Addison  accomplished  in  Anne's. 
Both  felt  painfully  the  corruption  of  their  times,  and 
both  strove  to  better  society.    Both  knew  society  thor- 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION 

oughly  and  pictured  accurately  the  men  and  women 
around  them,  their  looks,  their  actions,  their  conver- 
sations. Both  did  this  in  an  attractive,  satirical 
manner;  but  Jonson  was  not  in  sympathy  with  his 
creations  nor  does  he  inspire  us  with  this  feeling. 
His  characters  are  compounds  of  vices  and  weak- 
nesses with  little  heart,  and  we  have  a  good-natured 
contempt  for  them;  Addison  shows  vices  and  weak- 
nesses, but  pictures  the  latter  in  so  kindly  a  manner 
that  we  condemn  tenderly  as  we  take  the  delinquent 
by  the  hand,  and  are  perhaps  inclined  to  ask  ourselves 
if  we  do  not  possess  the  same  frailties.  Is  it  strange 
then  that  Addison,  having  this  underlying  sympathy 
which  attracts  and  corrects,  should  give  a  far  more 
helpful  impulse  to  society  than  Jonson,  who,  though 
seeing  just  as  truly,  and  exposing  as  faithfully,  yet 
repelled  by  his  aloofness  ? 

Addison  did  not  write  for  the  heart,  though  we  have 
a  very  warm  feeling  for  the  kindly  old  Eoger,  and  the 
simple  Will  Honeycomb ;  he  did  not  write  for  the 
head,  to  inform  or  invigorate  the  reasoning  powers; 
his  purpose  was  to  quicken  moral  life;  to  make  men 
and  women  less  idle,  less  vain,  less  frivolous ;  to  give 
loftier  aims,  to  make  more  helpful,  more  pure.  The 
essays  were  not  aimed  at  the  world  in  general,  a 
possible  or  imaginary  society;  they  were  written  ex- 
pressly for  the  people  whom  he  saw  daily  around  him, 


INTRODUCTION  XXV 

to  meet  the  actual  need  of  the  men  and  women  of  that 
age  living  such  thoughtless,  butterfly  lives.  He  as- 
sumes that  they  were  not  consciously  frittering  away 
their  energies;  but  "weak  in  their  high  emotions," 
like  the  rudderless  boat  on  the  wave,  containing  no 
power  in  itself  to  resist  the  forces  which  impel  it  now 
forward,  now  backward,  perhaps  dashing  it  against 
the  rock,  and  perhaps  carrying  it  out  to  sea.  And  his 
own  individuality  enables  him  to  comprehend  the 
surest  method  of  appealing  to  them  successfully.  He 
comes  to  them  simply,  kindly,  humorously,  with  an 
air  of  contempt  for  the  fault,  but  no  ill  will  to  the 
criminal. 

At  the  present  time  he  does  not  touch  us  deeply,  be- 
cause we  have  attained,  somewhat,  to  a  higher  plane 
of  morality,  and  do  not  need  the  suggestions.  Why, 
then,  you  will  ask,  should  we  make  a  study  of  his 
writings  ?  They  are  valuable  as  literature  ;  and  by 
studying  these  essays,  with  their  smooth,  easy  flow  of 
words,  and  natural,  conversational  sentences,  the  stu- 
dent may  gain  juster  conceptions  of  the  value  of  purity 
and  simplicity  of  style,  and  may  be  led  to  avoid  the 
dangerous  tendency  to  unnatural,  stilted  compositions. 
They  are  also  invaluable  as  history ;  and  show,  as  no 
purely  historical  work  can  do,  the  status  of  social  life. 
Nowhere  else  can  the  student  obtain  such  accurate, 
such  vivid  panoramic  views  of  the  society  of  the  Queen 


XXVI  INTRODUCTION 

Anne  period,  and  such  interesting  pictures  of  its  typi- 
cal men  and  women.  He  who  comes  to  Addison  for  ex- 
citement, for  thrilling  scenes  and  incidents  will  go  away 
disappointed ;  for  he  does  not  hold  his  readers  as  the 
Ancient  Mariner  did  the  wedding  guest  —  by  weird  and 
mysterious  tales,  and  blood-curdling  fiction ;  but  he  who 
comes  with  appetite  not  cloyed  with  sensational  litera- 
ture, who  comes  as  we  go  into  the  sunshine  —  for  rest- 
ful, healthful  growth  of  mind  and  body  —  finds  a  tonic 
which  strengthens  without  giving  undue  exhilaration, 
or  leaving  the  restless  cravings  of  an  over-stimulated 
mind. 


EVOLUTION    OF    THE    SPECTATOR  xxvii 


EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SPECTATOR 

The  Spectator,  which  first  appeared  before  the  public 
March  9,  1711,  was  a  folio  sheet  12^  inches  high  and  8 
inches  wide.  If  we  may  judge  by  the  letters  which 
Addison — who  was  joint  contributor  with  Steele — 
received,  the  paper  then  as  now  was  conceded  to  be 
the  best  of  the  numerous  papers  published,  and  pos- 
sessed a  great  number  of  delighted  readers.  George 
Trusty  writes  :  — 

"  I  constantly  peruse  your  paper  as  I  smoke  my  morn- 
ing pipe  .  .  .  and  really  it  gives  a  grateful  relish  to  every 
whiff;  each  paragraph  is  freighted  either  with  some 
useful  or  delightful  notion,  and  I  never  fail  of  being 
highly  diverted  or  improved.  .  .  .  You  charm  the 
fancy,  soothe  the  passions,  and  insensibly  lead  the 
reader  to  that  sweetness  of  temper  that  you  so  well 
describe :  you  rouse  generosity  with  that  spirit,  and 
inculcate  humanity  with  that  ease,  that  he  must  be 
miserably  stupid  that  is  not  affected  by  you." 

And  from  a  Mrs.  Perry  comes  the  following :  — 
"  Mr.  Spectator,  — 

"  Your  paper  is  a  part  of  my  tea-equipage ;  and  my 
servant  knows  my  humor  so  well,  that  calling  for 
my  breakfast  this  morning  (it  being  past  my  usual 
hour)  she  answered,  the  Spectator  was  not  yet  come 


XXVlll  INTRODUCTION 

in ;  but  that  the  teakettle  boiled,  and  she  expected  it 
every  moment.'' 

But  the  Spectator  —  like  other  newspapers  —  did  not 
appear  suddenly  before  the  public.  It  was  an  evolu- 
tion ;  and  "  Like  all  masterpieces  in  art  and  literature, 
marks  the  final  stage  of  a  long  and  painful  journey ; 
and  the  merit  of  their  inventors  consists  largely  in  the 
judgment  with  which  they  profited  by  the  experiences 
of  many  predecessors.''  The  written  letters  which  in 
Eome,  before  the  time  of  Christ,  were  sent  by  com- 
manders to  their  generals  may  perhaps  be  considered 
the  germ  of  the  modern  newspaper ;  for  in  addition  to 
necessary  information  on  military  matters  there  were 
often  added  events  transpiring  in  the  city,  and  these 
messages  were  not  intended  for  one  individual  alone, 
but  were  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole  army.  We  are 
told  that  Caesar  had  them  hung  where  all  might  read 
them.  Centuries  afterward  in  Venice,  news  from 
foreign  countries  was  read  aloud  at  stated  times  to  the 
people.  Spasmodic  as  such  communications  were,  pro- 
hibited by  one  ruler  and  favored  by  another,  they  yet 
impressed  the  public  with  their  value ;  and  in  process 
of  time  the  news-letter  or  newspaper  appeared  in  many 
parts  of  Europe,  reaching  England  in  the  early  part 
of  the  seventeenth  century. 

Here  as  elsewhere  they  were  in  pamphlet  form,  on 
small;  coarse  paper  j  were  written,  not  printed,  till  as 


EVOLUTION    OF    THE    SPECTATOR  xxix 

late  as  1622.  "What  they  lacked  in  size  and  material, 
they  made  up  in  the  length  and  sounding  of  title. 
The  Morning  Mercury,  or  a  Farce  of  Fools  (1700) ; 
The  British  Apollo,  or  Curious  Amusements  for  the 
Ingenious  ;  to  which  are  added  the  Most  Material 
Occurrences,  Foreign  and  Domestic,  Performed  by  a 
Society  of  Gentlemen  (1708),  are  the  titles  of  two  of 
these  small  editions.  At  first  they  were  published 
at  irregular  intervals  —  when  there  was  something 
especial  to  say ;  then  regularly,  increasing  as  time 
passed  on  until  the  editors  ventured  on  two  and  three 
a  week ;  and  at  last,  beginning  in  1702,  a  daily  paper, 
the  Daily  Courant,  was  maintained. 

Either  because  editors  were  lacking  in  business 
ability  and  knowledge  of  suitable  material,  or  because 
the  public  did  not  recognize  the  need  of  such  informa- 
tion, many  papers  were  born,  breathed  for  a  day,  and 
expired  leaving  small  trace  of  their  existence.  But 
the  death  of  one  was  certain  to  be  followed  by  the 
birth  of  another,  and  the  number  steadily  increased. 
In  1647,  a  tax  was  levied  which  caused  many  a  pub- 
lisher to  vanish  with  his  little  sheet.  However,  the 
opposition  to  the  taxation  grew  and  in  time  triumphed, 
and  the  tax  was  removed.  When  later  it  was  again 
imposed,  such  a  foothold  had  been  gained  that 
publishers  could  afford  to  pay  the  few  cents  extra. 
Another  set-back  was  given  when  the  government  at- 


XXX  INTRODUCTION 

tempted  to  control  all  publications ;  and  it  was  a  long 
time  before  Parliament  could  be  induced  to  see  "  that 
it  was  wiser  to  leave  falsehood  and  scurrility  to  be 
gradually  corrected  by  public  opinion,  as  speaking 
through  an  unfettered  press,  than  to  attack  them  by 
a  law  which  they  had  proved  themselves  able  to 
defy."  After  all  the  many  discouragements,  many 
failures,  many  trials,  the  newspaper  remained  as  a 
proof  of  its  necessity. 

The  subject-matter  was  somewhat  similar  to  that  of 
more  modern  papers  except  that  there  was  no  attempt 
to  influence,  to  form,  public  opinion.  News  from 
abroad  was  given,  but  before  the  eighteenth  century 
no  Parliamentary  proceedings  were  allowed  to  be  pub- 
lished. All  startling  adventures  were  seized  upon 
and  embellished  to  suit  the  taste  of  a  shallow  public. 
Petty  personalities  then  as  now  glared  from  the  pages, 
and  advertisements  of  medicine,  '*  healing  by  royal 
touch,"  match-making,  and  prize-fighting  occupied 
much  space.  But  it  was  not  until  Steele  issued  the 
Taller,  in  1709,  that  the  new  element  was  introduced, 
which  began  "to  hold  a  mirror"  up  to  society  and 
reflect  the  social  life,  with  its  customs  and  morals, 
and  its  gossip  of  club  and  coffee-house.  Steele  carried 
out  his  purpose,  "  to  expose  the  false  arts  of  life,  to 
pull  off  the  disguises  of  cunning,  vanity,  and  affecta- 
tion, and  to  recommend  a  general  simplicity  in  our 


EVOLUTION    OF    THE    SPECTATOR  xxxi 

dress,  our  discourse,  and  our  behavior'';  and  herein 
lies  the  great  difference  between  his  material  and  that 
of  other  papers. 

Neairly  two  years  afterward,  Steele  saw  fit  to  dis- 
continue the  Tatler  and  to  commence  another  paper, 
the  Spectator.  Addison,  who  had  written  many  ar- 
ticles for  the  former,  now  contributed  equally  with 
Steele,  and  his  connection  with  the  paper  caused  it 
to  become  extremely  popular.  Eapidly  it  gained  re- 
semblance to  our  modern  magazine  in  material,  the 
critical  and  ethical  essay  predominating,  while  news 
items  were  left  to  ordinary  newspapers.  The  Spec- 
tator was  issued  daily  —  the  Friday  edition  confining 
itself  to  literary  matter,  the  Saturday  to  moral  and 
religious ;  and  it  aimed  to  accomplish  even  a  greater 
work  than  its  predecessor  had  done.  More  and  more 
attention  was  given  to  forming  and  raising  the  stand- 
ard of  public  opinion  in  ''  manners,  morals,  art,  and 
literature.''  The  editors  hoped  to  meet  the  needs  of 
all  people,  but  especially  the  needs  of  women.  Addi- 
son realized  that  through  them  must  come  the  better- 
ment of  society  and  there  the  reform  must  begin.  He 
says :  — 

^^But  there  are  none  to  whom  this  paper  will  be 
more  useful  than  to  the  female  world.  I  have  often 
thought  there  has  not  been  sufficient  pains  taken  in 
finding  out  proper  employments  and  diversions  for  the 


XXXU  INTRODUCTION 

fair  ones.  Their  amusements  seem  contrived  for  them 
rather  as  they  are  women,  than  as  they  are  reasonable 
creatures ;  and  are  more  adapted  to  the  sex  than  to  the 
species.  The  toilet  is  their  great  scene  of  business, 
and  the  right  adjusting  of  their  hair  the  principal  em- 
ployment of  their  lives.  The  sorting  of  a  suit  of  rib- 
bons is  reckoned  a  very  good  morning's  work ;  and  if 
they  make  an  excursion  to  a  mercer's  or  a  toy  shop,  so 
great  a  fatigue  unfits  them  for  anything  else  all  the 
day  after.  Their  more  serious  occupations  are  sewing 
and  embroidery,  and  their  greatest  drudgery  the  prep- 
aration of  jellies  and  sweetmeats.  This,  I  say,  is  the 
state  of  ordinary  women ;  though  I  know  there  are 
multitudes  of  those  of  a  more  elevated  life  and  conver- 
sation, that  move  in  an  exalted  sphere  of  knowledge 
and  virtue,  that  join  all  the  beauties  of  the  mind  to 
the  ornaments  of  dress,  and  inspire  a  kind  of  awe  and 
respect,  as  well  as  love,  into  their  male  beholders. 
I  hope  to  increase  the  number  of  these  by  publishing 
this  daily  paper  which  I  shall  always  endeavor  to 
make  an  innocent,  if  not  an  improving  entertainment, 
and  by  that  means  at  least  divert  the  minds  of  my 
female  readers  from  greater  trifles." 

It  is  a  well-recognized  failing  with  a  would-be-re- 
former to  aim  above  the  comprehension  of  the  class  he 
wishes  to  help  ;  and  instead  of  moving  on  their  plane 
of  thought,  to  expect  them  to  come  up  to  his.    Addison 


EVOLUTION    OF    THE    SPECTATOR        xxxiii 

made  no  such  mistake.  He  knew  instinctively  the 
people,  descended  to  their  level,  and  in  a  light,  story- 
telling form,  gave  them  what  their  minds  were  able  to 
grasp.  As  they  were  not  a  reading  people,  as  they 
were  not  interested  in  homilies  on  right  living,  nor 
capable  of  deep,  logical  thinking,  they  must  be  reached 
by  simple  discussions  on  what  occupied  most  of  their 
attention  —  the  little  everyday  affairs  of  life.  They 
had  to  be  led  as  one  leads  a  child  —  by  arousing  the 
curiosity  which  eagerly  asks,  "What  did  they  do 
next?"  To  most  intellectual  men,  and  certainly  to 
illiterate  ones,  nothing  appeals  so  strongly  as  the 
loves  and  hates,  the  joys  and  sorrows,  the  successes 
and  failures,  and  the  thoughts  of  their  fellow  mor- 
tals. The  child  wants  its  story  of  Cinderella  with  her 
triumph,  and  the  wonderful  adventures  of  Jack  and 
his  beanstalk ;  the  man  is  just  as  absorbed  in  Orlando's 
love  for  Eosalind,  and  Antonio's  anxiety  for  his  com- 
mercial ventures.  And  Addison  and  Steele  based  their 
plan  of  the  Spectator  on  this  knowledge  of  human 
longing.  They  present  an  imaginary  club,  the  mem- 
bers of  which  are  typical  people,  and  with  a  thread  of 
narrative  skilfully  binding  them  together,  suggest  the 
lessons  they  wish  to  impart,  through  the  experiences 
of  Ned  Softly,  Tom  Folio,  Sir  Andrew  Freeport,  Sir 
Roger  de  Coverley,  or  through  the  Spectator  himself 
—  under  which  name  we  find  Addison ;  and  the  Eng- 


XXXIV  INTRODUCTION 

lish  public  read  and  profited.  It  is  safe  to  say  that 
no  publication  with  equal  circulation,  ever  benefited 
more  people  than  did  the  Spectator. 

Having  seen  the  eighteenth-century  England,  the 
value  of  Addison^s  work,  and  the  growth  of  the  news- 
paper until  the  evolution  of  the  Spectator^  Ave  are  pre- 
pared to  study  certain  of  the  essays  called  The  Sir 
Roger  de  Coverley  Papers.  Not  all  in  which  Sir  Roger 
is  mentioned  are  in  this  book ;  but  the  selected  ones 
aim  to  give  a  complete  portrait  of  Sir  Roger  —  a 
typical  landed  gentleman  —  with  his  quaint  humors 
and  charitable  disposition.  In  studying  his  peculiari- 
ties it  is  well  to  note  in  how  far  Addison  has  painted 
his  own  picture.  But  it  is  not  advisable  to  attempt  to 
fit  the  numerous  characters  in  these  essays  to  actual 
people,  although  in  many  instances  it  might  be  done ; 
however,  the  student  must  bear  in  mind  that  society 
contained  many  Sir  Rogers,  Will  Wimbles,  Will 
Honeycombs;  that  "Moll  Whites"  existed  in  abun- 
dance; that  superstition  was  prevalent,  and  that  the 
relations  between  parsons  and  squires  was  just  what 
Addison  has  portrayed. 

The  text  is  founded  on  Mr.  Henry  Morley's  edition 
of  the  Spectator,  published  in  1891 ;  but  an  occasional 
sentence  has  been  dropped,  and  unnecessary  capitals 
omitted  in  order  to  make  the  reading  more  attrac- 


LIVES    OF   ADDISON   AND    STEELE  XXXV 

tive.  Criticisms  of  the  style  are  not  attempted,  be- 
cause they  deprive  the  student  of  making  unbiased 
estimates  ;  and  only  such  notes  are  affixed  as  might 
be  difficult  to  obtain  in  an  ordinary  schoolroom. 


LIVES   OF  ADDISON  AND   STEELE 

Nothing  is  of  more  importance  to  a  man  than  his 
birth ;  yet  apparently  there  is  nothing  which  the  pub- 
lic cares  less  to  remember  than  the  date  of  his  appear- 
ance. Nevertheless,  it  seems  well  to  commence  these 
biographical  sketches  by  stating  that  Joseph  Addison 
was  born  May  1,  1672,  in  Wiltshire,  England.  He  re- 
ceived a  college  education ;  and  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
seven  had  shown  so  much  intellectual  ability  that 
influential  Whig  leaders,  desiring  his  influence,  ob- 
tained for  him  a  pension  from  the  Government,  and 
sent  him  to  the  Continent.  Here,  studying  and  writ- 
ing, he  enjoyed  two  years ;  then  the  downfall  of  the 
Whig  party  causing  the  loss  of  his  pension,  he  re- 
turned to  England.  Soon  after  this,  his  poem,  "The 
Campaign,"  gained  for  him  the  position  of  Under  Sec- 
retary of  State.  Later,  as  secretary  of  Lord  Wharton 
he  went  to  Ireland,  where  he  formed  the  friendship  of 
Swift.  He  was  now  a  popular  man  ;  and  his  popular- 
ity was  greatly  increased  by  his  contributions  to  the 


XXXVl  INTROD  UCTIOJSr 

Tatler,  and  later  by  his  connection  with  the  Spectator. 
In  1716  he  married  the  Countess  Dowager  of  War- 
wick. She  was  proud  and  haughty,  and  his  last  years 
were  not  happy  ones,  though  he  was  made  Secretary  of 
State,  and  was  looked  upon  as  the  greatest  literary 
man  of  his  time.     He  died  in  1719. 

Eichard  Steele,  who  says  "  I  am  an  Englishman  born 
in  the  city  of  Dublin,"  also  opened  his  eyes  on  the 
world  in  1672  ;  but  he  came  in  the  cold,  dreary  March 
—  not  in  the  sunny,  joyful  May  as  did  his  friend  Ad- 
dison. Neither  has  left  many  records  of  his  boyhood, 
and  so  we  conclude  that  with  each  it  was  uneventful, 
and  the  boys  ^^not  very  good  and  not  very  bad." 
Steele,  though  a  poor  boy,  must  have  had  some  school- 
ing, for  he  was  able  to  enter  Oxford  university  in  1690. 
But  he  was  of  too  restless  a  nature  to  confine  himself 
to  student  life,  and  in  a  short  time  left  college  to  join 
the  army.  He  enlisted  as  private,  but  was  afterward 
made  captain ;  and  tells  us  that  he  "  first  became  an 
author  while  Ensign  of  the  Guards."  His  first  prose 
work.  The  Christian  Hero,  which  showed  the  ideal  man, 
was  criticised  much  because  Steele  himself  practised 
so  little  -the  virtues  of  his  hero.  When  thirty-five  he 
received  from  the  Government  the  appointment  of 
Gazetteer,  and  about  this  time  married  for  his  second 
wife  (very  little  is  known  of  the  first)  Miss  Mary 
Scurlock,  to  whom  he  was  passionately  devoted.     His 


LIVES    OF    ADDISON   AND    STEELE       xxxvii 

need  of  money  brought  about  the  publication  of  the 
Tatler,m  which  connection  his  name  is  best  known. 
Following  this  periodical  came  the  Spectator,  the 
Guardian,  and  numerous  other  papers  having  the  same 
general  purpose.  Steele  became  member  of  Parlia- 
ment and  in  1715  was  knighted  by  George  I.  He  died 
at  Carmarthen,  September  1,  1729. 

The  lives  of  these  two  men,  so  nearly  the  same  age, 
and  so  closely  connected,  varied  much  in  experiences. 
From  letters  of  Steele,  it  is  evident  that  he  was  thrown 
on  his  own  resources  when  a  mere  boy,  his  father,  a 
lawyer,  dying  when  Eichard  was  but  five  years  old, 
and  the  mother  surviving  but  a  short  time.  Addison's 
father,  a  prominent  dean  in  good  circumstances,  had  a 
comfortable  and  somewhat  luxurious  home,  and  the 
boy  knew  nothing  of  privation  and  struggle  with  pov- 
erty. In  their  college  days  Thackeray  marks  the  dif- 
ference. "Addison  wrote  his  (Steele's)  exercises. 
Addison  did  his  best  themes.  "He  ran  on  Addison's 
messages;  fagged  for  him  and  blacked  his  shoes.'^ 
In  middle  life  both  gained  friends  and  lucrative  posi- 
tions by  their  writings ;  yet  Steele  was  continually  in 
trouble  financially  and  socially,  while  Addison  moved 
serenely  along  and  experienced  little  difficulty  in  get- 
ting what  he  wanted.  Steele's  home  was  probably  a 
happier  one  than  Addison's  —  if  there  can  be  a  com- 
parison between  a  home  where  the  whole  gamut  of 


XXXviii  INTROD  UCTIOW 

chords  and  discords  is  sounded  at  various  times,  and  one 
where  it  is  invariably  at  low  pitch.  There  was  un- 
doubtedly much  love  and  much  fault-finding  from  Mrs. 
Steele,  much  coldness  and  much  haughtiness  from  Mrs. 
Addison.  Addison  had  one  child,  Charlotte,  who  lived 
to  old  age  but  never  married.  Only  one  of  Steele's 
children,  Elizabeth,  reached  maturity,  and  she  became 
the  wife  of  Lord  Trevor. 

Thackeray  says  in  deciding  of  a  great  man  we  must 
ask  ourselves  if  we  should  like  to  live  with  him. 
Judging  from  this  standpoint,  of  these  men  so  widely 
different  in  character,  the  lovers  of  one  would  scarcely 
be  lovers  of  the  other,  and  so  would  not  consider  the  two 
equally  worthy.  Of  Addison,  Macaulay  says :  "  The 
just  harmony  of  qualities,  the  exact  temper  between 
the  stern  and  the  human  virtues,  the  habitual  observ- 
ance of  every  law,  not  only  of  moral  rectitude,  but  of 
moral  grace  and  dignity,  distinguish  him  from  all 
men.''  And  Thackeray  declares:  "He  must  have 
been  one  of  the  finest  gentlemen  the  world  ever  saw ; 
at  all  moments  of  life  serene  and  courteous,  cheerful 
and  calm.''  Swift  tells  us  that  "Steele  hath  com- 
mitted more  absurdities  in  economy,  friendship,  love, 
duty,  good  manners,  politics,  religion,  and  writing 
than  ever  fell  to  one  man's  share,"  and  this  is  proba- 
bly true ;  but  a  man  who  in  an  age  of  almost  unbridled 
license  in  thought  and  speech  of  woman,  possessed 


LIVES    OF   ADDISON   AND    STEELE         xxxix 

nothing  but  chivalrous  tenderness  and  loving  rever- 
ence for  her  purity  and  beauty,  surely  deserves  that 
women  and  all  lovers  of  women  should  dwell  on  his 
virtues  and  forget  his  weaknesses.  Addison,  polite 
and  gentlemanly  always,  desirous  of  helping,  yet 
lacked  entirely  the  enthusiastic,  respectful  admiration 
for  woman  which  animated  Steele.  Addison  wished 
to  raise  her  so  that  she  might  be  respected;  Steele 
found  something  to  respect  before  she  was  raised. 
Does  this  mean  anything  to  us,  or  is  it  a  quality  to 
ignore  ?  Is  there  not  something  of  greatness,  some 
element  of  the  highest  type  of  manhood  in  this  ability 
to  detect  under  all  the  flimsy,  affected  showiness  of 
the  times,  the  undeveloped,  inherent  nobility  of  wom- 
anhood ?  Steele  had  his  faults.  Swift  was  right ; 
but  the  faults  of  this  "  same  gentle,  kindly,  improvi- 
dent, jovial  Dick  Steele"  were  the  faults  of  an  im- 
petuous child  who  repents  and  sins  again  only  to  shed 
other  tears  of  repentance.  Addison  was  a  man  in 
boyhood ;  Steele,  a  boy  even  in  manhood ;  and  who 
shall  say  that  Steele  with  his  "  sweet  and  compassion- 
ate nature,"  though  rashly  living  for  the  moment,  is 
less  lovable  than  the  polished,  dignified  Addison  whom 
all  the  world  honors  ? 

When  they  met  as  boys  at  the  Charter  House  school, 
their  very  dissimilarity  tended  to  cement  a  friendship 
as  strong  as  that  of  David  and  Jonathan,  Damon  and 


xl  INTROD  UCTION 

Pythias.  The  persuasive  cordiality  of  Steele  pene- 
trated the  bashf  Illness  and  natural  reserve  of  Addison, 
while  ^^  Addison's  stronger,  more  stable,  more  serious 
character  affected  very  favorably  his  (Steele's)  own 
wayward,  volatile  nature."  The  love  was  mutual  and 
the  dependence  mutual  and  actual.  Later  in  life  they 
quarrelled  —  as  most  friends  do,  sometimes.  A  Bill 
to  limit  the  number  of  peers  was  before  Parlia- 
ment. Addison  favored  it,  Steele  opposed  it,  and 
bitter  articles  were  written  by  each.  Unfortunately 
Addison's  death,  following  soon,  prevented  the  recon- 
ciliation which  would,  undoubtedly,  have  occurred. 
Afterward  Steele  is  reported  to  have  written  that 
"  they  still  preserved  the  most  passionate  concern  for 
their  mutual  welfare."  And  Morley  tells  us  "  The 
friendship  —  equal  friendship  —  between  Steele  and 
Addison  was  as  unbroken  as  the  love  between  Steele 
and  his  wife." 

And  out  of  this  friendship  came  the  Spectator  ;  for 
it  is  safe  to  say  that  without  the  cooperation  of  the 
two,  the  paper  would  never  have  reached  such  perfec- 
tion. Addison  was  in  Ireland  when  he  recognized 
in  the  new  periodical,  the  Tatler,  the  hand  of  his 
friend  Steele.  Seeing  at  once  his  own  fitness  for 
such  work  he  offered  to  contribute,  and  in  his  first 
essay  showed  those  bright  touches  of  humor  which 
later  so  enchanted  the  public  in  the  iSpectator,     That 


LIVES    OF   ADDISON   AND    STEELE  xli 

the  two  friends  should  unite  in  publishing  the  latter 
paper  was  the  natural  outcome ;  for  neither  was  at  his 
best  without  the  other.  What  Steele  originated,  Addi- 
son perfected.  Morley  says  "  It  was  the  firm  hand 
of  his  friend  Steele  that  helped  Addison  up  to  the 
place  in  literature  which  became  him.  It  was  Steele 
who  caused  the  nice,  critical  taste  which  Addison  might 
have  spent  only  in  accordance  with  the  fleeting  fash- 
ions of  his  time,  to  be  inspired  with  all  Addison's 
religious  earnestness,  and  to  be  enlivened  with  the 
free  play  of  that  sportive  humor,  delicately  whimsical 
and  gaily  wise,  which  made  his  conversation  the  de- 
light of  the  few  men  with  whom  he  sat  at  ease ; "  and 
again,  "the  Spectator  is  the  abiding  monument  com- 
memorating the  friendship  of  these  two.''  Whether 
the  originator  or  perfecter  is  greater  will  always  be 
an  open  question ;  but  critics  must  concede  that  both 
are  great ;  that  the  Spectator  is  not  the  work  of  Addi- 
son alone,  not  the  work  of  Steele  alone,  but  is  the 
united  genius  of  Addison  and  Steele  and  truly  their 
"  monument." 


SIR  ROGER  DE  COVERLEY  PAPERS 


I.     THE   SPECTATOR'S   ACCOUNT   OF   HIMSELF. 

I  HAVE  observed  that  a  reader  seldom  peruses  a 
book  with  pleasure  'till  he  knows  whether  the  writer 
of  it  be  a  black  or  a  fair  man,  of  a  mild  or  choleric 
disposition,  married  or  a  bachelor,  with  other  partic- 
ulars of  the  like  nature,  that  conduce  very  much  to  5 
the  right  understanding  of  an  author.  To  gratify 
this  curiosity,  which  is  so  natural  to  a  reader,  I  design 
this  paper  and  my  next  as  prefatory  discourses  to  my 
following  writings,  and  shall  give  some  account  in 
them  of  the  several  persons  that  are  engaged  in  this  10 
work.  As  the  chief  trouble  of  compiling,  digesting, 
and  correcting  will  fall  to  my  share,  I  must  do  myself 
the  justice  to  open  the  work  with  my  own  history. 

I   was   born  to  a  small  hereditary  estate,   which, 
according  to  the  tradition  of  the  village  where  it  lies,  15 
was  bounded  by  the  same  hedges  and  ditches  in  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror's  time  that  it  is  at  present,  and 
B  1 


2  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS  [l 

has  been  delivered  down  from  father  to  son  whole  and 
entire,  without  the  loss  or  acquisition  of  a  single 
field  or  meadow,  during  the  space  of  six  hundred 
years.     There  runs  a  story  in  the  family,  that,  before 

5  I  was  born,  my  mother  dreamt  that  she  was  to  bring 
forth  a  judge;  whether  this  might  proceed  from  a 
lawsuit  which  was  then  depending  in  the  family,  or 
my  father's  being  a  justice  of  the  peace,  I  cannot 
determine ;  for  I  am  not  so  vain  as  to  think  it  pre- 

10  saged  any  dignity  that  I  should  arrive  at  in  my  future 
life,  though  that  was  the  interpretation  which  the 
neighborhood  put  upon  it.  The  gravity  of  my  be- 
havior at  my  very  first  appearance  in  the  world 
seemed  to  favor  my  mother's  dream ;  for,  as  she  has 

15  often  told  me,  I  threw  away  my  rattle  before  I  was 
two  months  old,  and  would  not  make  use  of  my  coral 
till  they  had  taken  away  the  bells  from  it. 

As  for  the  rest  of  my  infancy,  there  being  nothing 
in  it  remarkable,  I  shall  pass  it  over  in  silence.     I 

20  find  that,  during  my  nonage,  I  had  the  reputation  of 
a  very  sullen  youth,  but  was  always  a  favorite  of  my 
schoolmaster,  who  used  to  say,  that  my  parts  were  solid, 
and  would  wear  well,  I  had  not  been  long  at  the 
University,  before  I  distinguished  myself  by  a  most 

25  profound  silence  j  for,  during  the  space  of  eight  years, 


l]  SIR   ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  3 

excepting  in  the  public  exercises  of  the  college,  I 
scarce  uttered  the  quantity  of  an  hundred  words ;  and 
indeed  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  spoke  three  sen- 
tences together  in  my  whole  life.  Whilst  I  was  in 
this  learned  body,  I  applied  myself  with  so  much  5 
diligence  to  my  studies,  that  there  are  very  few 
celebrated  books,  either  in  the  learned°  or  modern 
tongues,  which  I  am  not  acquainted  with. 

Upon  the  death  of  my  father,  I  was  resolved  to 
travel  into  foreign  countries,  and  therefore  left  the  lo 
University  with  the  character  of  an  odd,  unaccountable 
fellow,  that  had  a  great  deal  of  learning,  if  I  would 
but  show  it.     An   insatiable   thirst  after   knowledge 
carried  me  into  all  the  countries  of  Europe  in  which 
there  was  anything  new  or  strange  to  be  seen ;  nay,  to  15 
such  a  degree  was  my  curiosity  raised,  that  having 
read  the  controversies'^  of  some  great  men  concerning 
the  antiquities  of  Egypt,  I  made  a  voyage  to  Grand 
Cairo,  on  purpose  to  take  the  measure  of  a  pyramid ; 
and,  as  soon  as  I  had  set  myself  right  in  that  particu-  20 
lar,  returned  to  my  native  country  with  great  satisfac- 
tion. 

I  have  passed  my  latter  years  in  this  city,  where 
I  am  frequently  seen  in  most  public  places,  though 
there  are  not  above  half  a  dozen  of  my  select  friends  25 


4  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  [l 

that  know  me :  of  whom  my  next  paper  shall  give  a 
more  particular  account.  There  is  no  place  of  general 
resort  wherein  I  do  not  often  make  my  appearance; 
sometimes  I  am  seen  thrusting  my  head  into  a  round 

5  of  politicians  at  Will's,^  and  listening  with  great  atten- 
tion to  the  narratives  that  are  made  in  those  little 
circular  audiences.  Sometimes  I  smoke  a  pipe  at 
Child' s,°  and  while  I  seem  attentive  to  nothing  but  the 
Postman°  overhear  the  conversation  of  every  table  in 

10  the  room.  I  appear  on  Sunday  nights  at  St.  James's 
coffee-house,°  and  sometimes  join  the  little  committee 
of  politics  in  the  inner  room,  as  one  who  comes  there 
to  hear  and  improve.  My  face  is  likewise  very  well 
known  at  the  Grecian,®  the  Cocoa-Tree,°  and  in  the 

15  theatres  both  of  Drury  Lane  and  the  Hay-Market. 
I  have  been  taken  for  a  merchant  upon  the  Ex- 
change for  above  these  ten  years,  and  sometimes  pass 
for  a  Jew  in  the  assembly  of  stock-jobbers  at  Jona- 
than's.°    In  short,  wherever  I  see  a  cluster  of  people, 

20  I  always  mix  with  them,  though  I  never  open  my  lips 
but  in  my  own  club. 

Thus  I  live  in  the  world  rather  as  a  spectator  of 
mankind  than  as  one  of  the  species ;  by  which  means 
I  have  made  myself  a  speculative  statesman,  soldier, 

25  merchant,  and  artisan,  without   ever   meddling  with 


l]  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  5 

any  practical  part  in  life.  I  am  very  well  versed  in 
the  theory  of  an  husband  or  a  father,  and  can  discern 
the  errors  in  the  economy,  business,  and  diversion  of 
others,  better  than  those  who  are  engaged  in  them: 
as  standers-by  discover  blots,  which  are  apt  to  escape  5 
those  who  are  in  the  game.  I  never  espoused  any 
party  with  violence,  and  am  resolved  to  observe  an 
exact  neutrality  between  the  Whigs  and  Tories,  unless 
I  shall  be  forced  to  declare  myself  by  the  hostilities 
of  either  side.  In  short,  I  have  acted  in  all  the  parts  10 
of  my  life  as  a  looker-on,  which  is  the  character  I 
intend  to  preserve  in  this  paper. 

I  have  given  the  reader  just  so  much  of  my  history 
and  character,  as  to  let  him  see  I  am  not  altogether 
unqualified  for  the  business  I  have  undertaken.  As  15 
for  other  particulars  in  my  life  and  adventures,  I  shall 
insert  them  in  following  papers,  as  I  shall  see  occa- 
sion. In  the  mean  time,  when  I  consider  how  much 
I  have  seen,  read,  and  heard,  I  begin  to  blame  my 
own  taciturnity ;  and  since  I  have  neither  time  nor  20 
inclination  to  communicate  the  fulness  of  my  heart 
in  speech,  I  am  resolved  to  do  it  in  writing,  and  to 
print°  myself  out,  if  possible,  before  I  die.  I  have 
been  often  told  by  my  friends,  that  it  is  pity  so  many 
useful  discoveries  which  I  have   made  should  be  in  25 


6  sin    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  [i 

the  possession  of  a  silent  man.  For  this  reason,  there- 
fore, I  shall  publish  a  sheet  full  of  thoughts  every 
morning,  for  the  benefit  of  my  contemporaries;  and 
if  I  can  any  way  contribute  to  the  diversion  or  im- 

5  provement  of  the  country  in  which  I  live,  I  shall  leave 
it  when  I  am  summoned  out  of  it,  with  the  secret 
satisfaction  of  thinking  that  I  have  not  lived  in 
vain. 

There  are  three  very  material  points  which  I  have 

10  not  spoken  to  in  this  paper,  and  which,  for  several 
important  reasons,  I  must  keep  to  myself,  at  least  for 
some  time  :  I  mean,  an  account  of  my  name,  my  age, 
and  my  lodgings.  I  must  confess  I  would  gratify  my 
reader   in  anything  that   is   reasonable ;   but   as   for 

15  these  three  particulars,  though  I  am  sensible  they 
might  tend  very  much  to  the  embdlishment  of  my 
paper,  I  cannot  yet  come  to  a  resolution  of  communi- 
cating them  to  the  public.  They  would  indeed  draw 
me  out  of  that  obscurity  which  I  have  enjoyed  for 

20  many  years,  and  expose  me  in  public  places  to  several 
salutes  and  civilities,  which  have  been  always  very 
disagreeable  to  me ;  for  the  greatest  pain  I  can  suffer 
is  the  being  talked  to  and  being  stared  at.  It  is  for 
this  reason  likewise  that  I  keep  my  complexion  and 

25  dress  as  very  great  secrets  ;  though  it  is  not  impossi- 


Il]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  7 

ble  but  I  may  make  discoveries  of  both  in  the  progress 
of  the  work  I  have  undertaken. 

After  having  been  thus  particular  upon  myself,  I 
shall  in  to-morrow's  paper  give  an  account  of  those 
gentlemen  who  are  concerned  with  me  in  this  work ;    5 
for,  as  I  have  before  intimated,  a  plan  of  it  is  laid 
and  concerted  (as  all  other  matters  of  importance  are) 
in  a  club.     However,  as  my  friends  have  engaged  me 
to  stand  in  the  front,  those  who  have  a  mind  to  corre- 
spond with  me  may  direct  their  letters  to  the  Spec-  lo 
TATOR,  at  Mr.  Buckley's,  in  Little   Britain."     For  I 
must  further  acquaint  the  reader,  that  though   our 
club  meets  only  on  Tuesdays  and  Thursdays,  we  have 
appointed  a  committee  to  sit  every  night,  for  the  in- 
spection of  all  such  papers  as  may  contribute  to  the  15 
advancement  of  the  public  weal. 

II.     DESCRIPTION   OF   CLUB   MEMBERS. 

The  first  of  our  society  is  a  gentleman  of  Worces- 
tershire, of  ancient  descent,  a  baronet,  his  name  Sir 
Eoger  de  Coverley.  His  great-grandfather  was  in- 
ventor of  that  famous  country-dance°  which  is  called  20 
after  him.  All  who  know  that  shire  are  very  well 
acquainted  with  the  parts  and  merits  of  Sir  Eoger. 
He  is  a  gentleman  that  is  very^singular  in  his  behav- 


8  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [ll 

ior,  but  his  singularities  x3roceed  from  his  good  sense, 
and  are  contradictions  to  the  manners  of  the  world 
only  as  he  thinks  the  world  is  in  the  wrong.  How- 
ever, this  humor  creates  him  no  enemies,  for  he  does 

5  nothing  with  sourness  or  obstinacy;  and  his  being 
unconfined  to  modes  and  forms  makes  him  but  the 
readier  and  more  capable  to  please  and  oblige  all  who 
know  him.  When  he  is  in  town,  he  lives  in  Soho 
Square.""     It  is  said  he  keeps  himself  a  bachelor  by 

10  reason  he  was  crossed  in  love  by  a  perverse  beautiful 
widow  of  the  next  county  to  him.  Before  this  disap- 
pointment. Sir  Koger  was  what  you  call  a  fine°  gentle- 
man, had  often  supped  with  my  Lord  Eochester°  and 
Sir  George  Etherege,°  fought  a  duel  upon  his  first  com- 

15  ing  to  town,  and  kicked  Bully  Dawson°  in  a  public 
coffee-house  for  calling  him  "youngster."  But  being 
ill  used  by  the  above-mentioned  widow,  he  was  very 
serious  for  a  year  and  a  half ;  and  though,  his  temper 
being  naturally  jovial,  he  at  last  got  over  it,  he  grew 

20  careless  of  himself,  and  never  dressed  afterwards. 
He  continues  to  wear  a  coat  and  doublet  of  the  same 
cut  that  were  in  fashion  at  the  time  of  his  repulse, 
which,  in  his  merry  humors,  he  tells  us,  has  been  in 
and  out  twelve  times  since  he  first  wore  it.     He  is 

25  now  in  his  fifty-sixth  year,  cheerful,  gay,  and  hearty ; 


Il]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  9 

keeps  a  good  house  in  both  town  and  country  ;  a  great 
lover  of  mankind ;  but  there  is  such  a  mirthful  cast 
in  his  behavior,  that  he  is  rather  beloved  than  es- 
teemed. His  tenants  grow  rich,  his  servants  look 
satisfied,  all  the  young  women  profess  love  to  him,  5 
and  the  young  men  are  glad  of  his  company:  when 
he  comes  into  a  house  he  calls  the  servants  by  their 
names,  and  talks  all  the  way  up  stairs  to  a  visit.  I 
must  not  omit  that  Sir  Eoger  is  a  justice  of  the  quo- 
rum ;  that  he  fills  the  chair  at  a  quarter-session  with  10 
great  abilities ;  and,  three  months  ago,  gained  uni- 
versal applause  by  explaining  a  passage  in  the  Game- 
Act.° 

The  gentleman  next  in  esteem  and  authority  among 
us  is  another  bachelor,  who  is  a  member  of  the  Inner  15 
Temple ;°  a  man  of  great  probity,  wit,  and  understand- 
ing ;  but  he  has  chosen  his  place  of  residence  rather  to 
obey  the  direction  of  an  old  hum  or  some  father,  than 
in  pursuit  of  his  own  inclinations.  He  was  placed 
there  to  study  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  is  the  most  20 
learned  of  any  of  the  house  in  those  of  the  stage. 
Aristotle^  and  Longinus  are  much  better  understood 
by  him  than  Littleton"  or  Coke.  The  father  sends 
up  every  post  questions  relating  to  marriage-articles, 
leases,  and  tenures,  in  the  neighborhood;   all  which  25 


10  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  [ii 

questions  he  agrees  with  an  attorney  to  answer  and 
take  care  of  in  the  lump.  He  is  studying  the  pas- 
sions themselves,  when  he  should  be  inquiring  into 
the  debates  among  men  which  arise  from  them.     He 

5  knows  the  argument  of  each  of  the  orations  of'  Demos- 
thenes and  TuUy,  but  not  one  case  in  the  reports  of 
our  own  courts.  No  one  ever  took  him  for  a  fool,  but 
none,  except  his  intimate  friends,  know  he  has  a  great 
deal  of  wit.°     This  turn  makes  him  at  once  both  dis- 

lo  interested  and  agreeable :  as  few  of  his  thoughts  are 
drawn  from  business,  they  are  most  of  them  fit  for 
conversation.  His  taste  of  books  is  a  little  too  just! 
for  the  age  he  lives  in;  he  has  read  all,  but  approves' 
of  very  few.     His  familiarity  with  the  customs,  man- 

15  ners,  actions,  and  writings  of  the  ancients  makes  him 
a  very  delicate  observer  of  what  occurs  to  him  in  the 
present  world.  He  is  an  excellent  critic,  and  the  time 
of  the  play  is  his  hour  of  business ;  exactly  at  five°  he 
passes  through  'New  Inn,  crosses  through  Eussell  Court, 

20  and  takes  a  turn  at  Will's  till  the  play  begins  ;•-  he  has 
his  shoes  rubbed  and  his  periwig  powdered  at  the 
barber's  as  you  go  into  the  Eose.°  It  is  for  the  good 
of  the  audience  when  he  is  at  a  play,  for  the  actors 
have  an  ambition  to  please  him. 

25       The  person  of  next  consideration  is  Sir  Andrew 


Il]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  11 

Freeport,  a  mercliant  of  great  eminence  in  the  city 
of  London,  a  person  of  indefatigable  industry,  strong 
reason,  and  great  experience.  His  notions  of  trade 
are  noble  and  generous,  and  (as  every  rich  man  has 
usually  some  sly  way  of  jesting,  which  would  make  5 
no  great  figure  were  he  not  a  rich  man)  he  calls  the 
•sea  the  British  Common.  He  is  acquainted  with  com- 
merce in  all  its  parts,  and  will  tell  you  that  it  is 
a  stupid  and  barbarous  way  to  extend  dominion  by 
arms ;  for  true  power  is  to  be  got  by  arts  and  indus-  10 
try.  He  will  often  argue  that  if  this  part  of  our  trade 
were  well  cultivated,  we  should  gain  from  one  nation ; 
and  if  another,  from  another.  I  have  laeard  him  prove 
that  diligence  makes  more  lasting  acquisitions  than 
valor,  and  that  sloth  has  ruined  more  nations  than  the  15 
sword.  He  abounds  in  several  frugal  maxims,  amongst 
which  the  greatest  favorite^  is,  ^^  A  penny  saved  is  a 
penny  got.''  A  general  trader  of  good  sense  is  pleas- 
anter  company  than  a  general  scholar ;  and  Sir  Andrew 
having  a  natural^  unaffected  eloquence,  the  perspicuity  20 
of  his  discourse  gives  the  same  pleasure  that  wit  would 
in  another  man.  He  has  made  his  fortunes  himself, 
and  says  that  England  may  be  richer  than  other  king- 
doms by  as  plain  methods  g^s  he  himself  is  richer  than 
other  men ;  though  at  the  same  time  I  can  say  this  of  25 


12  SIR    ROGER    DE    CQVERLEY   PAPERS  [ll 

him,  that  there  is  not  a  point  in  the  compass  but  blows 
home  a  ship  in  which  he  is  an  owner. 

Next  to  Sir  Andrew  in  the  club-room  sits  Captain 
Sentry,°  a  gentleman  of  great  courage,  good  under- 

5  standing,  but  invincible  modesty.  He  is  one  of  those 
that  deserve  very  well,  but  are  very  awkward  at  put- 
ting their  talents  within  the  observation  of  such  as 
should  take  notice  of  them.  He  was  some  years  a 
captain,  and  behaved  himself  with  great  gallantry  in 

10  several  engagements  and  at  several  sieges ;  but  having 
a  small  estate  of  his  own,  and  being  next  heir  to  Sir 
Eoger,  he  has  quitted  a  way  of  life  in  which  no  man 
can  rise  suitably  to  his  merit  who  is  not  something  of 
a  courtier  as  well  as  a  soldier.     I  have  heard  him 

15  often  lament  that  in  a  profession  where  merit  is 
placed  in  so  conspicuous  a  view,  impudence  should 
get  the  better  of  modesty.  When  he  has  talked  to 
this  purpose,  I  never  heard  him  make  a  sour  expres- 
sion, but  frankly  confess  that  he  left  the  world  be- 

20  cause  he  was  not  fit  for  it.  A  strict  honesty  and  an 
even  regular  behavior  are  in  themselves  obstacles  to 
him  that  must  press  through  crowds,  who  endeavor  at 
the  same  end  with  himself,  —  the  favor  of  a  com- 
mander.    He  will,  however,  in  this  way  of  talk,  excuse 

25  generals  for  not  disposing  according  to  men's  desert^ 


Il]  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  13 

or  inquiring  into  it ;  "  for/'  says  he,  "  that  great  man 
who  has  a  mind  to  help  me,  has  as  many  to  break 
through  to  come  at  me,  as  I  have  to  come  at  him ; " 
therefore  he  will  conclude,  that  the  man  who  would 
make  a  figure,  especially  in  a  military  way,  must  get  5 
over  all  false  modesty,  and  assist  his  patron  against 
the  importunity  of  other  pretenders  by  a  proper  assur- 
ance in  his  own  vindication.  He  says  it  is  a  civil 
cowardice  to  be  backward  in  asserting  what  you  ought 
to  expect,  as  it  is  a  military  fear  to  be  slow  in  attack-  10 
ing  when  it  is  your  duty.  With  this  candor  does  the 
gentleman  speak  of  himself  and  others.  The  same 
frankness  runs  through  all  his  conversation.  The 
military  part  of  his  life  has  furnished  him  with 
many  adventures,  in  the  relation  of  which  he  is  very  15 
agreeable  to  the  company ;  for  he  is  never  overbear- 
ing, though  accustomed  to  command  men  in  the  utmost 
degree  below  him;  nor  ever  too  obsequious  from  a 
habit  of  obeying  men  highly  above  him. 

But  that  our  society  may  not  appear  a  set  of  humor-  20 
ists  unacquainted  with  the  gallantries  and  pleasures  of 
the  age,  we  have  among  us  the  gallant  Will  Honey- 
comb, a  gentleman  who,  according  to  his  years,  should 
be  in  the  decline  of  his  life,  but  having  ever  been  very 
careful  of  his  person,  and  always  had  a  very  easy  fort-  25 


14  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET    PAPERS  [ll 

line,  time  has  made  but  very  little  impression  either 
by  wrinkles  on  his  forehead,  or  traces  in  his  brain. 
His  person  is  well  turned,  and  of  a  good  height.  He  is 
very  ready  at  that  sort  of  discourse  with  which  men 

5  usually  entertain  women.  He  has  all  his  life  dressed 
very  well,  and  remembers  habits  as  others  do  men. 
He  can  smile  when  one  speaks  to  him,  and  laughs 
easily.  He  knows  the  history  of  every  mode,  and  can 
inform  you  from  which  of  the  French  king's  wenches 

10  our  wives  and  daughters  had  this  manner  of  curling 
their  hair,  that  way  of  placing  their  hoods ;  whose 
frailty  was  covered  by  such  a  sort  of  petticoat,  and 
whose  vanity  to  show  her  foot  made  that  part  of  the 
dress   so   short  in   such  a  year;   in  a  word,  all  his 

15  conversation  and  knowledge  has  been  in  the  female 
world.  As  other  men  of  his  age  will  take  notice  to 
you  what  such  a  minister  said  upon  such  and  such 
an  occasion,  he  will  tell  you  when  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth danced  at  court  such  a  woman  was  then  smitten, 

20  another  was  taken  with  him  at  the  head  of  his  troop 
in  the  Park.  In  all  these  important  relations,  he  has 
ever  about  the  same  time  received  a  kind  glance  or  a 
blow  of  a  fan  from  some  celebrated  beauty,  mother  of 
the  present  Lord  Such-a-one.     This  way  of  talking  of 

25  his  very  much  enlivens  the   conversation  among  us 


Il]  SIR    ROGER    BE    COVERLET   PAPERS  15 

of  a  more  sedate  turn;  and  I  find  there  is  not  one  of 
the  company,  but  myself,  who  rarely  speak  at  all,  but 
speaks  of  him  as  of  that  sort  of  man  who  is  usually 
called  a  well-bred  fine  gentleman.  To  conclude  his 
character,  where  women  are  not  concerned,  he  is  an  5 
/  honest,  worthy  man. 

I  cannot  tell  whether  I  am  to  account  him  whom  I 
am  next  to  speak  of  as  one  of  our  company,  for  he 
visits  us  but  seldom ;  but  when  he  does,  it  adds  to 
every  man  else  a  new  enjoyment  of  himself.  He  is  a  10 
clergyman,  a  very  philosophic  man,  of  general  learn- 
ing, great  sanctity  of  life,  and  the  most  exact  good 
breeding.  He  has  the  misfortune  to  be  of  a  very 
weak  constitution,  and  consequently  cannot  accept  of 
such  cares  and  business  as  preferments  in  his  function  15 
would  oblige  him  to ;  he  is  therefore  among  divines 
what  a  chamber-counsellor°  is  among  lawyers.  The 
probity  of  his  mind,  and  the  integrity  of  his  life, 
create  him  followers,  as  being  eloquent  or  loud  ad- 
vances others.  He  seldom  introduces  the  subject  he  20 
speaks  upon ;  but  we  are  so  far  gone  in^years,  that  he 
observes,  when  he  is  among  us,  an  earnestness  to  have 
him  fall  on  some  divine  topic,  which  he  always  treats 
with  much  authority,  as  one  who  has  no  interests  in 
this  world,  as  one  who  i§  hastening  to  the  object  of  25 


16  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [ill 

all  his  wishes,  and  conceives  hope  from  his  decays  and 
infirmities.     These  are  my  ordinary  companions. 

-ill.     SIR  ROGER'S  OPINION  OF  TRUE    WISDOM. 

I  KNOW  no  evil  under  the  sun  so  great  as  the  abuse 
of  the  understanding,  and  -yet  there  is  no  one  vice 

5  more  common.  It  has  diffused  itself  through  both 
sexes  and  all  qualities  of  mankind;  and  there  is 
hardly  that  person  to  be  found,  who  is  not  more  con- 
cerned for  the  reputation  of  wit  and  sense,  than  hon- 
esty and   virtue.     But   this   unhappy  affectation   of 

10  being  wise  rather  than  honest,  witty  than  good- 
natured,  is  the  source  of  most  of  the  ill  habits  of  life. 
Such  false  impressions  are  owing  to  the  abandoned 
writings  of  men  of  wit,  and  the  awkward  imitation  of 
the  rest  of  mankind. 

15  For  this  reason  Sir  Eoger  was  saying  last  night, 
that  he  was  of  opinion  that  none  but  men  of  fine  parts 
deserve  to  be  hanged.  The  reflections  of  such  men 
are  so  delicate  upon  all  occurrences  which  they  are 
concerned  in,  that  they  should  be  exposed  to  more 

20  than  ordinary  infamy  and  punishment,  for  offending 
against  such  quick  admonitions  as  their  own  souls 
give  them,  and  blunting  the  fine  edge  of  their  minds 
in  such  a  manner,  that  they  are  no  more  shocked  at 


Ill]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  17 

vice  and  folly  than  men  of  slower  capacities.  There 
is  no  greater  monster  in  being  than  a  very  ill  man  of 
great  parts.  He  lives  like  a  man  in  a  palsy,  with  one 
side  of  him  dead.  While  perhaps  he  enjoys  the  satis- 
faction of  luxury,  of  wealth,  of  ambition,  he  has  lost  5 
the  taste  of  good-will,  of  friendship,  of  innocence. 
Scarecrow,  the  beggar,  in  Lincoln' s-Inn-rields,°  who 
disabled  himself  in  his  right  leg,  and  asks  alms  all 
day  to  get  himself  a  warm  supper  and  a  trull  at  night, 
is  not  half  so  despicable  a  wretch,  as  such  a  man  of  lo 
sense.  The  beggar  has  no  relish  above  sensations; 
he  finds  rest  more  agreeable  than  motion;  and  while 
he  has  a  warm  fire  and  his  doxy,  never  reflects  that  he 
deserves  to  be  whipped.  Every  man  who  terminates 
his  satisfaction  and  enjoyments  within  the  supply  of  15 
his  own  necessities  and  passions,  is,  says  Sir  Eoger, 
in  my  eye,  as  poor  a  rogue  as  Scarecrow.  "But,"  con- 
tinued he,  "  for  the  loss  of  public  and  private  virtue, 
we  are  beholden  to  your  men  of  parts  forsooth;  it 
is  with  them  no  matter  what  is  done,  so  it  is  done  20 
with  an  air.  But  to  me,  who  am  so  whimsical  in  a 
corrupt  age  as  to  act  according  to  nature  and  reason, 
a  selfish  man,  in  the  most  shining  circumstance  and 
equipage,  appears  in  the  same  condition  with  the  fel- 
low above-mentioned,  but  more  contemptible  in  pro-  25 


18  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [ill 

portion  to  what  more  he  robs  the  public  of,  and  enjoys 
above  him.  I  lay  it  down  therefore  for  a  rule,  that 
the  whole  man  is  to  move  together;  that  every  action 
of  any  importance  is  to  have  a  prospect  of   public 

5  good;  and  that  the  general  tendency  of  our  indifferent 
actions  ought  to  be  agreeable  to  the  dictates  of  reason, 
of  religion,  of  good-breeding;  without  this,  a  man,  as 
I  have  before  hinted,  is  hopping  instead  of  walking; 
he  is  not  in  his  entire  and  proper  motion." 

10  While  the  honest  knight  was  thus  bewildering  him- 
self in  good  starts,  I  looked  intentively  upon  him, 
which  made  him,  I  thought,  collect  his  mind  a  little. 
"What  I  aim  at,"  says  he,  "is  to  represent  that  I  am 
of  opinion,  to  polish  our  understandings,  and  neglect 

15  our  manners,  is  of  all  things  the  most  inexcusable. 
Reason  should  govern  passion,  but  instead  of  that, 
you  see,  it  is  often  subservient  to  it;  and,  as  unac- 
countable as  one  would  think  it,  a  wise  man  is  not 
always  a  good  man."     This  degeneracy  is  not  only 

20  the  guilt  of  particular  persons,  but  also,  at  some 
times,  of  a  whole  people ;  and  perhaps  it  may  appear 
upon  examination,  that  the  most  polite  ages  are  the 
least  virtuous.  This  may  be  attributed  to  the  folly 
of  admitting  wit  and  learning  as  merit  in  themselves, 

25  without  considering  the  application  of  them.     By  this 


Ill]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  19 

means  it  becomes  a  rule,  not  so  much  to  regard  what 
we  do,  as  how  we  do  it.  But  this  false  beauty  will  not 
pass  upon  men  of  honest  minds  and  true  taste.  Sir 
Richard  Blackmore°  says,  with  as  much  good  sense  as 
virtue,  "  It  is  a  mighty  dishonor  and  shame  to  employ  5 
excellent  faculties  and  abundance  of  wit,  to  humor 
and  please  men  in  their  vices  and  follies.  The  great 
enemy  of  mankind,  notwithstanding  his  wit  and  an- 
gelic faculties,  is  the  most  odious  being  in  the  whole 
creation."  He  goes  on  soon  after  to  say,  very  gener-  lo 
ously,  that  he  undertook  the  writing  of  his  poem  "to 
rescue  the  Muses  out  of  the  hands  of  ravishers,  to  re- 
store them  to  their  sweet  and  chaste  mansions,  and  to 
engage  them  in  an  employment  suitable  to  their  dig- 
nity." This  certainly  ought  to  be  the  purpose  of  every  15 
man  who  appears  in  public,  and  whoever  does  not 
proceed  upon  that  foundation  injures  his  country  as 
fast  as  he  succeeds  in  his  studies.  When  modesty 
ceases  to  be  the  chief  ornament  of  one  sex,  and  integ- 
rity of  the  other,  society  is  upon  a  wrong  basis,  and  20 
we  shall  be  ever  after  without  rules  to  guide  our  judg- 
ment in  what  is  really  becoming  and  ornamental. 
Nature  and  reason  direct  one  thing,  passion  and  humor 
another.  To  follow  the  dictates  of  the  two  latter  is 
going  into  a  road  that  is  both  endless  and  intricate;  25 


20  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  [ill 

when  we  pursue  the  other,  our  passage  is  delightful, 
and  what  we  aim  at  easily  attainable. 

I  do  not  doubt  but  England  is  at  present  as  polite  a 
nation  as  any  in  the  world;  but  any  man  who  thinks 
5  can  easily  see  that  the  affectation  of  being  gay  and 
in  fashion  has  very  near  eaten  up  our  good  sense  and 
our  religion.  Is  there  anything  so  just  as  that  mode 
and  gallantry  should  be  built  upon  exerting  ourselves 
in  what  is  proper  and  agreeable  to  the  institutions  of 
10  justice  and  piety  among  us?  And  yet  is  there  any- 
thing more  common  than  that  we  run  in  perfect  contra- 
diction to  them?  All  which  is  supported  by  no  other 
pretension  than  that  it  is  done  with  what  we  call  a 
good  grace. 
15  Nothing  ought  to  be  held  laudable  or  becoming, 
but  what  nature  itself  should  prompt  us  to  think  so. 
Kespect  to  all  kinds  of  superiors  is  founded,  me- 
thinks,  upon  instinct;  and  yet  what  is  so  ridiculous  as 
age?  I  make  this  abrupt  transition  to  the  mention  of 
,  20  this  vice,  more  than  any  other,  in  order  to  introduce 
a  little  story,  which  I  think  a  pretty  instance  that 
the  most  polite  age  is  in  danger  of  being  the  most 
vicious. 

"  It  happened  at  Athens,  during  a  public  represen- 
ts tation  of  some  play  exhibited  in  honor  of  the  com- 


IV]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  21 

monwealth,  that  an  old  gentleman  came  too  late  for  a 
place  suitable  to  his  age  and  quality.  Many  of  the 
young  gentlemen,  who  observed  the  difficulty  and  con- 
fusion he  was  in,  made  signs  to  him  that  they  would 
accommodate  him  if  he  came  where  they  sat.  The  good  5 
man  bustled  through  the  crowd  accordingly ;  but  when 
he  came  to  the  seats  to  which  he  was  invited,  the  jest 
was  to  sit  close  and  expose  him,  as  he  stood,  out  of 
countenance,  to  the  whole  audience.  The  frolic  went 
round  all  the  Athenian  benches.  But  on  those  occa-  lo 
sions  there  were  also  particular  places  assigned  for 
foreigners.  When  the  good  man  skulked  towards  the 
boxes  appointed  for  the  Lacedaemonians,  that  honest 
people,  more  virtuous  than  polite,  rose  up  all  to  a 
man,  and  with  the  greatest  respect  received  him  15 
among  them.  The  Athenians,  being  suddenly  touched 
with  a  sense  of  the  Spartan  virtue  and  their  own  de- 
generacy, gave  a  thunder  of  applause;  and  the  old 
man  cried  out,  ^The  Athenians  understand  what  is 
good,  but  the  Lacedaemonians  practise  it. '  '^  ^^ 

IV.     SIR   KOGER   AT   THE   CLUB. 

The  club  of  which  I  am  a  member,  is  very  luckily 
composed  of  such  persons  as  are  engaged  in  different 
ways  of  life,  and  deputed  as  it  were  out  of  the  most 


22  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [iv 

conspicuous  classes  of  mankind :  by  this  means  I  am 
furnished  with  the  greatest  variety  of  hints  and  mate- 
rials, and  know  everything  that  passes  in  the  different 
quarters  and  divisions,  not  only  of  this  great  city,  but 

5  of  the  whole  kingdom.  My  readers,  too,  have  the 
satisfaction  to  find,  that  there  is  no  rank  or  degree 
among  them  who  have  not  their  representative  in  this 
club,  and  that  there  is  always  somebody  present  who 
will  take  care  of  their  respective  interests,  that  noth- 

10  ing  may  be  written  or  published  to  the  prejudice  or 
infringement  of  their  just  rights  and  privileges. 

I  last  night  sat  very  late  in  company  with  this 
select  body  of  friends,  who  entertained  me  with  sev- 
eral remarks  which  they  and  others  had  made  upon 

15  these  my  speculations,  as  also  with  the  various  suc- 
cess which  they  had  met  with  among  their  several 
ranks  and  degrees  of  readers.  Will  Honeycomb  told 
me,  in  the  softest  manner  he  could,  that  there  were 
some  ladies  (but  for  your  comfort,  says  Will,  they  are 

20  not  those  of  the  most  wit)  that  were  offended  at  the 
liberties  I  had  taken  with  the  opera  and  the  puppet- 
show;  that  some  of  them  were  likewise  very  much 
surprised,  that  I  should  think  such  serious  points  as 
the  dress  and  equipage  of  persons  of  quality  proper 

25  subjects  for  raillery. 


iv]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  23 

He  was  going  on,  when  Sir  Andrew  Ereeport  took 
him  up  short,  and  told  him,  that  the  papers  he  hinted 
at  had  done  great  good  in  the  city,  and  that  all  their 
wives  and  daughters  were  the  better  for  them;  and 
further  added,  that  the  whole  city  thought  themselves  5 
very  much  obliged  to  me  for  declaring  my  generous 
intentions  to  scourge  vice  and  folly  as  they  appear  in 
a  multitude,  without  condescending  to  be  a  publisher 
of  particular  intrigues.  In  short,  says  Sir  Andrew, 
if  you  avoid  that  foolish  beaten  road  of  falling  upon  lo 
aldermen  and  citizens,  and  employ  your  pen  upon 
the  vanity  and  luxury  of  courts,  your  papers  must 
needs  be  of  general  use. 

Upon  this  my  friend  the  Templar  told  Sir  Andrew, 
that  he  wondered  to  hear  a  man  of  his  sense  talk  after  15 
that  manner ;  that  the  city  had  always  been  the  prov- 
ince°  for  satire;  and  that  the  wits  of  king  Charles's 
time  jested  upon  nothing  else  during  his  whole  reign. 
He  then  showed,  by  the  examples  of  Horace,  °  Juve- 
nal, Boileau,  and  the  best  writers  of  every  age,  that  20 
the  follies  of  the  stage  and  court  had  never  been  ac- 
counted too  sacred  for  ridicule,  how  great  soever  the 
persons  might  be  that  patronized  them.  But  after  all, 
says  he,  I  think  your  raillery  has  made  too  great  an 
excursion,  in  attacking  several  persons  of  the  Inns  of  25 


24  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  [iV 

Court;  and  I  do  not  believe  you  can  show  me  any 
precedent  for  your  behavior  in  that  particular. 

My  good  friend  Sir  Eoger  de  Coverley,  who  had 
said  nothing  all  this  while,  began  his  speech  with  a 
5    pish!  and  told  us,  that  he  wondered  to  see  so  many 
men  of  sense  so  very  serious  upon  fooleries.     "Let 
our  good  friend,"  says  he,  "attack  every  one  that  de- 
serves it;  I  would  only  advise  you,  Mr.  Spectator," 
applying  himself  to  me,  "  to  take  care  how  you  meddle 
10  with  country  squires  :   they  are  the  ornaments  of  the 
English  nation;  men  of  good  heads  and  sound  bodies! 
and  let  me  tell  you,  some  of  them  take  it  ill  of  you, 
that  you  mention  fox-hunters  with  so  little  respect." 
Captain  Sentry  spoke  very  sparingly  on  this  ocea- 
ns sion.     What  he  said  was  only  to  commend  my  pru- 
dence in  not  touching  upon  the  army,  and  advised  me 
to  continue  to  act  discreetly  in  that  point. 

By  this  time  I  found  every  subject  of  my  specula- 
tions was  taken  away  from  me,  by  one  or  other  of  the 
20  club;  and  began  to  think  myself  in  the  condition  of 
the  good  man  that  had  one  wife  who  took  a  dislike  to 
his  gray  hairs,  and  another  to  his  black,  till  by  their 
.picking  out  what  each  of  them  had  an  aversion  to, 
they  left  his  head  altogether  bald  and  naked. 
25       While  I  was  thus  musing  with  myself,  my  worthy 


IV]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  25 

friend  tlie  clergyman,  who,  very  luckily  for  me,  was 
at  the  club  that  night,  undertook  my  cause.  He  told 
us,  that  he  wondered  any  order  of  persons  should  think 
themselves  too  considerable  to  be  advised  ;  that  it  was 
not  quality,  but  innocence,  which  exempted  men  from  5 
reproof  ;  that  vice  and  folly  ought  to  be  attacked 
wherever  they  could  be  met  with,  and  especially  when 
they  were  placed  in  high  and  conspicuous  stations  of 
life.  He  further  added,  that  my  paper  would  only 
serve  to  aggravate  the  pains  of  poverty,  if  it  chiefly  lo 
exposed  those  who  are  already  depressed,  and  in  some 
measure  turned  into  ridicule,  by  the  meanness  of  their 
conditions  and  circumstances.  He  afterwards  pro- 
ceeded to  take  notice  of  the  great  use  this  paper  might 
be  to  the  public,  by  reprehending  those  vices  which  15 
are  too  trivial  for  the  chastisement  of  the  law,  and  too 
fantastical  for  the  cognizance  of  the  pulpit.  He  then 
advised  me  to  prosecute  my  undertaking  with  cheer- 
fulness, and  assured  me,  that  whoever  might  be  dis- 
pleased with  me,  I  should  be  approved  by  all  those  20 
whose  praises  do  honor  to  the  persons  on  whom  they 
are  bestowed. 

The  whole  club  pay  a  particular  deference  to  the 
discourse  of  this  gentleman,  and  are  drawn  into  what 
he  says,  as  much  by  the  candid  and  ingenuous  manner  25 


26  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  [iV 

with  which  he  delivers  himself,  as  by  the  strength  of 
argument  and  force  of  reason  which  he  makes  use  of. 
Will  Honeycomb  immediately  agreed  that  what  he 
had  said  was  right;  and  that  for  his  part,  he  would 

5  not  insist  upon  the  quarter  which  he  had  demanded 
for  the  ladies.  Sir  Andrew  gave  up  the  city  with  the 
same  frankness.  The  Templar  would  not  stand  out, 
and  was  followed  by  Sir  Eoger  and  the  Captain,  who 
all  agreed  that  I  should  be  at  liberty  to  carry  the  war 

10  into  what  quarter  I  pleased,  provided  I  continued  to 
combat  with  criminals  in  a  body,  and  to  assault  the 
vice  without  hurting  the  person. 

This  debate,  which  was  held  for  the  good  of  man- 
kind, put  me  in  mind  of  that  which  the  Roman  trium- 

15  virate  were  formerly  engaged  in,  for  their  destruction. 
Every  man  at  first  stood  hard  for  his  friend,  till  they 
found  that  by  this  means  they  should  spoil  their  pro- 
scription :  and  at  length,  making  a  sacrifice  of  all  their 
acquaintance  and  relations,  furnished  out  a  very  decent 

20  execution. 

Having  thus  taken  my  resolution  to  march  on  boldly 
in  the  cause  of  virtue  and  good  sense,  and  to  annoy 
their  adversaries  in  whatever  degree  or  rank  of  men 
they  may  be  found,  I  shall  be  deaf  for  the  future  to 

25  all  the  remonstrances  that  shall  be  made  to  me  on  this 


V]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  27 

account.  If  Punch°  grow  extravagant,  I  shall  repri- 
mand him  very  freely;  if  the  stage  becomes  a  nursery 
of  folly  and  impertinence,  I  shall  not  be  afraid  to 
animadvert  upon  it.  In  short,  if  I  meet  with  any- 
thing in  city,  court,  or  country,  that  shocks  modesty  5 
or  good  manners,  I  shall  use  my  utmost  endeavors 
to  make  an  example  of  it.  I  must^  however,  intreat 
every  particular  person,  who  does  me  the  honor  to  be 
a  reader  of  this  paper,  never  to  think  himself,  or  any 
one  of  his  friends  or  enemies,  aimed  at  in  what  is  10 
said;  for  I  promise  him,  never  to  draw  a  faulty  char- 
acter which  does  not  fit  at  least  a  thousand  people,  or 
to  publish  a  single  paper  that  is  not  written  in  the 
spirit  of  benevolence,  and  with  a  love  to  mankind. 

V.    SIR   ROGER   AT  HIS   COUNTRY  HOUSE. 

Having  often  received  an  invitation  from  my  friend  15 
Sir  Eoger  de  Coverley  to  pass  away  a  month  with  him 
in  the  country,  I  last  week  accompanied  him  thither, 
and  am  settled  with  him  for  some  time  at  his  country- 
house,  where  I  intend  to  form  several  of  my  ensuing 
speculations.  Sir  Eoger,  who  is  very  well  acquainted  20 
with  my  humor,  lets  me  rise  and  go  to  bed  when  I 
please,  dine  at  his  own  table  or  in  my  chamber  as  I 
think  fit,  sit  still  and  say  nothing  without  bidding  me 


28  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [v 

be  merry.  When  the  gentlemen  of  the  country  come 
to  see  him,  he  only  shows  me  at  a  distance :  as  I  have 
been  walking  in  his  fields  I  have  observed  them  steal- 
ing a  sight  of  me  over  an  hedge,  and  have  heard  the 

5  Knight  desiring  them  not  to  let  me  see  them,  for  that 
I  hated  to  be  stared  at. 

I  am  the  more  at  ease  in  Sir  Koger's  family,  be- 
cause it  consists  of  sober  and  staid  persons ;  for,  as 
the  Knight  is  the  best  master  in  the  world,  he  seldom 

10  changes  his  servants ;  and  as  he  is  beloved  by  all 
about  him,  his  servants  never  care  for  leaving  him ; 
by  this  means  his  domestics  are  all  in  years,  and 
grown  old  with  their  master.  You  would  take  his 
valet  de  chambre  for  his  brother,  his  butler  is  gray- 

15  headed,  his  groom  is  one  of  the  gravest  men  that  I 
have  ever  seen,  and  his  coachman  has  the  looks  of  a 
privy  counsellor.  You  see  the  goodness  of  the  master 
even  in  the  old  house-dog,  and  in  a  gray  pad  that  is 
kept  in  the  stable  with  great  care  and  tenderness,  out 

20  of  regard  to  his  past  services,  though  he  has  been  use- 
less for  several  years. 

I  could  not  but  observe  with  a  great  deal  of  pleas- 
ure, the  joy  that  appeared  in  the  countenances  of 
these  ancient  domestics  upon  my  friend's  arrival   at 

25  his   country-seat.     Some   of  them   could  not   refrain 


V]  SIE    ROGER    BE    COVERLET   PAPERS  29 

from  tears  at  the  sight  of  their  old  master ;  every  one 
of  them  pressed  forward  to  do  something  for  him,  and 
seemed  discouraged  if  they  were  not  employed.  At 
the  same  time  the  good  old  Knight,  with  the  mixture 
of  the  father  and  the  master  of  the  family,  tempered  5 
the  inquiries  after  his  own  affairs  with  several  kind 
questions  relating  to  themselves.  This  humanity  and 
good-nature  engages  everybody  to  him,  so  that  when 
he  is  pleasant  upon  any  of  them,  all  his  family  are  in 
good  humor,  and  none  so  much  as  the  person  whom  he  lo 
diverts  himself  with:  on  the  contrary,  if  he  coughs, 
or  betrays  any  infirmity  of  old  age,  it  is  easy  for  a 
stander-by  to  observe  a  secret  concern  in  the  looks  of 
all  his  servants. 

My  worthy  friend  has  put  me  under  the  particular  15 
care  of  his  butler,  who  is  a  very  prudent  man,  and,  as 
well  as  the  rest   of  his  fellow-servants,  wonderfully 
desirous  of  pleasing  me,  because  they  have  often  heard 
their  master  talk  of  me  as  his  particular  friend. 

My  chief  companion,  when  Sir  Eoger  is  diverting  20 
himself  in  the  woods  or  the  fields,  is  a  very  venerable 
man  who  is  ever  with  Sir  Koger,  and  has  lived  at  his 
house  in  the  nature  of  a  chaplain  above  thirty  years. 
This  gentleman  is  a  person  of  good  sense  and  some 
learning,  of  a  very  regular  life  and  obliging  conversa-  25 


30  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [v 

tion :  he  heartily  loves  Sir  Eoger,  and  knows  that  he 
is  very  much  in  the  old  Knight's  esteem,  so  that  he 
lives  in  the  family  rather  as  a  relation  than  a  depend- 
ent. 

5  I  have  observed  in  several  of  my  papers  that  my 
friend  Sir  Koger,  amidst  all  his  good  qualities,  is 
something  of  an  humorist ;  and  that  his  virtues  as 
well  as  imperfections  are,  as  it  were,  tinged  by  a  cer- 
tain  extravagance,   which  makes   them    particularly 

10  hiSy  and  distinguishes  them  from  those  of  other  men. 
This  cast  of  mind,  as  it  is  generally  very  innocent  in 
itself,  so  it  renders  his  conversation  highly  agreeable, 
and  more  delightful  than  the  same  degree  of  sense 
and  virtue  would  appear  in  their  common  and  ordi- 

T5  nary  colors.  As  I  was  walking  with  him  last  night, 
he  asked  me  how  I  liked  the  good  man  w^hom  I  have 
just  now  mentioned,  and  without  staying  for  my 
answer  told  me  that  he  was  afraid  of  being  insulted 
with  Latin  and  Greek  at  his  own  table,  for  which 

20  reason  he  desired  a  particular  friend  of  his  at  the 
University  to  find  him  out  a  clergyman  rather  of 
plain  sense  than  much  learning,  of  good  aspect,  a  clear 
voice,  a  sociable  temper,  and,  if  possible,  a  man  that 
understood  a  little  of  backgammon.     My  friend,  says 

25  Sir  Roger,  found  me  out  this  gentleman,  who,  besides 


V]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  31 

the  endowments  required  of  him,  is,  they  tell  me,  a 
good  scholar,  though  he  does  not  show  it:  I  have 
given  him  the  parsonage  of  the  parish ;  and,  because  I 
know  his  value,  have  settled  upon  him  a  good  amiiiity 
for  life.  If  he  outlives  me,  he  shall  find  that  he  was  5 
higher  in  my  esteem  than  perhaps  he  thinks  he  is. 
He  has  now  been  with  me  thirty  years,  and,  though 
he  does  not  know  I  have  taken  notice  of  it,  has  never 
in  all  that  time  asked  anything  of  me  for  himself, 
though  he  is  every  day  soliciting  me  for  something  in  lo 
behalf  of  one  or  other  of  my  tenants,  his  parishioners. 
There  has  not  been  a  lawsuit  in  the  parish  since  he 
has  lived  among  them ;  if  any  dispute  arises  they 
apply  themselves  to  him  for  the  decision ;  if  they  do 
not  acquiesce  in  his  judgment,  which  I  think  never  15 
happened  above  once  or  twice  at  most,  they  appeal 
to  me.  At  his  first  settling  with  me  I  made  him  a 
present  of  all  the  good  sermons°  which  have  been 
printed  in  English,  and  only  begged  of  him  that  every 
Sunday  he  would  pronounce  one  of  them  in  the  pulpit.  20 
Accordingly  he  has  digested  them  into  such  a  series, 
that  they  follow  one  another  naturally,  and  make  a 
continued  system  of  practical  divinity. 

As  Sir  Roger  was  going  on  in  his  story,  the  gentle- 
man we  were  talking  of  came  up  to  us  j  and  upon  the  25 


32  SIB    ROGER    BE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  [v 

Knight's  asking  him  who  preached  to-morrow  (for  it 
was  Saturday  night)  told  us  the  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph 
in  the  morning,  and  Dr.  South  in  the  afternoon.  He 
then  showed  us  his  list  of  preachers  for  the  whole 

5  year,  where  I  saw  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  Arch- 
bishop Tillotson,  Bishop  Saunderson,  Dr.  Barrow,  Dr. 
Calamy,  with  several  living  authors  who  have  pub- 
lished discourses  of  practical  divinity.  I  no  sooner 
saw  this  venerable  man  in  the  pulpit,  but  I  very  much 

10  approved  of  my  friend's  insisting  upon  the  qualifica- 
tions of  a  good  aspect  and  a  clear  voice  ;  for  I  was  so 
charmed  with  the  gracefulness  of  his  figure  and  deliv- 
ery, as  well  as  with  the  discourses  he  pronounced, 
that  I  think  I  never  passed  any  time  more  to  my 

15  satisfaction.  A  sermon  repeated  after  this  manner  is 
like  the  composition  of  a  poet  in  the  mouth  of  a  grace- 
ful actor. 

I   could   heartily  wish  that  more  of   our  country 
clergy  would  follow  this  example;    and,  instead  of 

20  wasting  their  spirits  in  laborious  compositions  of  their 
own,  would  endeavor  after  a  handsome  elocution,  and 
all  those  other  talents  that  are  proper  to  enforce  what 
has  been  penned  by  greater  masters.  This  would  not 
only  be  more  easy  to  themselves,  but  more  edifying  to 

25  the  people. 


Vl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  33 


VI.     THE   COVERLET   HOUSEHOLD. 

The  reception,  manner  of  attendance,  undisturbed 
freedom,  and  quiet,  which  I  meet  with  here  in  the 
country,  has  confirmed  me  in  the  opinion  I  always 
had,  that  the  general  corruption  of  manners  in  ser- 
vants is  owing  to  the  conduct  of  masters.  The  aspect  5 
of  every  one  in  the  family  carries  so  much  satisfaction 
that  it  appears  he  knows  the  happy  lot  which  has 
befallen  him  in  being  a  member  of  it.  There  is 
one  particular  which  I  have  seldom  seen  but  at  Sir 
Eoger's ;  it  is  usual  in  all  other  places,  that  servants  10 
fly  from  the  parts  of  the  house  through  which  their 
master  is  passing :  on  the  contrary,  here  they  indus- 
triously place  themselves  in  his  way ;  and  it  is  on 
both  sides,  as  it  were,  understood  as  a  visit,  when  the 
servants  appear  without  calling.  This  proceeds  from  15 
the  humane  and  equal  temper  of  the  man  of  the 
house,  who  also  perfectly  well  knows  how  to  enjoy  a 
great  estate  with  such  economy  as  ever  to  be  much 
beforehand.  This  makes  his  own  mind  untroubled, 
and  consequently  unajjt  to  vent  peevish  expressions,  20 
or  give  passionate  or  inconsistent  orders  to  those 
about  him.  Thus  respect  and  love  go  together,  and 
a  certain  cheerfulness  in  performance  of  their  duty  is 


34  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [vi 

the  particular  distinction  of  the  lower  part  of  this 
family.  When  a  servant  is  called  before  his  master, 
he  does  not  come  with  an  expectation  to  hear  himself 
rated  for  some  trivial  fault,  threatened  to  be  stripped, 

5  *or  used  with  any  other  unbecoming  language,  which 
mean  masters  often  give  to  worthy  servants;  but  it 
is  often  to  know  what  road  he  took  that  he  came  so 
readily  back  according  to  order;  whether  he  passed 
by  such  a  ground;  if  the  old  man  who  rents  it  is  in 

10  good  health ;  or  whether  he  gave  Sir  Eoger's  love  to 
him,  or  the  like. 

A  man  who  preserves  a  respect  founded  on  his 
benevolence  to  his  dependents  lives  rather  like  a 
prince  than  a  master  in  his  family ;   his  orders  are 

15  received  as  favors,  rather  than  duties ;  and  the  dis- 
tinction of  approaching  him  is  part  of  the  reward  for 
executing  what  is  commanded  by  him. 

There  is  another  circumstance  in  which  my  friend 
excels   in  his   management,  which  is  the  manner  of 

20  rewarding  his  servants :  he  has  ever  been  of  opinion 
that  giving  his  cast  clothes  to  be  worn  by  valets  has 
a  very  ill  effect  upon  little  minds,  and  crea'tes  a  silly 
sense  of  equality  between  the  parties,  in  persons 
affected  only  with  outward  things.     I  have  heard  him 

25  often  pleasant  on  this  occasion,  and  describe  a  young 


Vl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  35 

gentleman  abusing  his  man  in  that  coat  which  a 
month  or  two  before  was  the  most  pleasing  distinction 
he  was  conscious  of  in  himself.  He  would  turn  his 
discourse  still  more  pleasantly  upon  the  ladies'  boun- 
ties of  this  kind ;  and  I  have  heard  him  say  he  knew  5 
a  fine  woman,  who  distributed  rewards  and  punish- 
ments in  giving  becoming  or  unbecoming  dresses  to 
her  maids. 

But  my  good  friend  is  above  these  little  instances 
of  good-will,  in  bestowing  only  trifles  on  his  servants ;   10 
a  good  servant  to  him  is  sure  of  having  it  in  his  choice 
very  soon  of  being  no  servant  at  all.     As  I  before 
observed,  he  is  so  good  an  husband,°  and   knows  so 
thoroughly  that  the  skill  of  the  purse  is  the  cardinal 
virtue  of  this  life,  —  I  say,  he  knows  so  well  that  15 
frugality  is  the  support  of  generosity,  that  he   can 
often  spare  a  large  fine  when  a  tenement  falls,  and 
give  that  settlement  to  a  good  servant  who  has  a  mind 
to  go  into  the  world,  or  make  a  stranger  pay  the  fine 
to  that  servant,  for  his  more  comfortable  maintenance,  20 
if  he  stays  in  his  service. 

A  man  of  honor  and  generosity  considers  it  would 
be  miserable  to  himself  to  have  no  will  but  that  of 
another,  though  it  were  of  the  best  person  breathing, 
and  for  that  reason  goes  on,  as  fast  as  he  is  able,  to  25 


36  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [vi 

put  his  servants  into  independent  livelihoods.  The 
greatest  part  of  Sir  Eoger's  estate  is  tenanted  by  per- 
sons who  have  served  himself  or  his  ancestors.  It 
was  to  me  extremely  pleasant  to  observe  the  visitants 

5  from  several  parts  to  welcome  his  arrival  into  the 
country;  and  all  the  difference  that  I  could  take 
notice  of  between  the  late  servants  who  came  to  see 
him,  and  those  who  stayed  in  the  family,  was  that 
these  latter  were  looked  upon  as  finer  gentlemen  and 

10  better  courtiers. 

This  manumission  and  placing  them  in  a  way  of 
livelihood,  I  look  upon  as  only  what  is  due  to  a  good 
servant,  which  encouragement  will  make  his  successor 
be  as  diligent,  as  humble,  and  as  ready  as  he  was. 

15  There  is  something  wonderful  in  the  narrowness  of 
those  minds  which  can  be  pleased,  and  be  barren  of 
bounty  to  those  who  please  them. 

One  might,  on  this  occasion,  recount  the  sense  that 
great  persons  in  all  ages  have  had  of  the  merit  of  their 

20  dependents,  and  the  heroic  services  which  men  have 
done  their  masters  in  the  extremity  of  their  fortunes  j 
and  shown  to  their  undone  patrons  that  fortune  was 
all  the  difference  between  them ;  but  as  I  design  this 

♦    my  speculation  only  as  a  gentle  admonition  to  thank- 

25  less  masters,  I  shall  not  go  out  of  the  occurrences  of 


Vl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  37 

common  life^  but  assert  it  as  a  general  observation, 
that  I  never  saw,  but  in  Sir  Eoger's  family,  and  one 
or  two  more,  good  servants  treated  as  they  ought  to 
be.  Sir  Eoger's  kindness  extends  to  their  children's 
children,  and  this  very  morning  he  sent  his  coachman's  5 
grandson  to  prentice.  I  shall  conclude  this  paper  with 
an  account  of  a  picture  in  his  gallery,  where  there  are 
many  which  will  deserve  my  future  observation. 

At  the  very  upper  end  of  this  handsome  structure  I 
saw  the  portraiture  of  two  young  men  standing  in  a  lo 
river,  the  one  naked,  the  other  in  a  livery.  The  per- 
son supported  seemed  half  dead,  but  still  so  much 
alive  as  to  show  in  his  face  exquisite  joy  and  love 
towards  the  other.  I  thought  the  fainting  figure 
resembled  my  friend  Sir  Eoger;  and  looking  at  the  15 
butler,  who  stood  by  me,  for  an  account  of  it,  he  in- 
formed me  that  the  person  in  the  livery  was  a  servant 
of  Sir  Eoger's,  who  stood  on  the  shore  while  his  mas- 
ter was  swimming,  and  observing  him  taken  with  some 
sudden  illness,  and  sink  under  water,  jumped  in  and  20 
saved  him.  He  told  me  Sir  Eoger  took  off  the  dress° 
he  was  in  as  soon  as  he  came  home,  and  by  a  great 
bounty  at  that  time,  followed  by  his  favor  ever  since, 
had  made  him  master  of  that  pretty  seat  which  we 
saw  at  a  distance  as  we  came  to  this  house.     I  remem-  25 


38  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  [vil 

bered,  indeed,  Sir  Eoger  said  there  lived  a  very  worthy 
gentleman,  to  whom  he  was  highly  obliged,  without 
mentioning  anything  further.  Upon  my  looking  a 
little  dissatisfied  at  some  part  of  the  picture,  my 
attendant  informed  me  that  it  was  against  Sir  Eoger's 
will,  and  at  the  earnest  request  of  the  gentleman  him- 
self, that  he  was  drawn  in  the  habit  in  which  he  had 
saved  his  master. 


VII.     SIR   ROGER   AND   WILL   WIMBLE. 


6»^^ 

As  I  was  yesterday  morning  walking  with  Sir  Eoger 
10  before  his  house,  a  country  fellow  brought  him  a  huge 
fish,  which,  he  told  him,  Mr.  William  Wimble  had 
caught  that  very  morning ;  and  that  he  presented  it,  with 
his  service  to  him,  and  intended  to  come  and  dine  with 
him.  At  the  same  time  he  delivered  a  letter,  which  my 
15  friend  read  to  me  as  soon  as  the  messenger  left  him. 

'^SiR  Eoger,— 

"I  desire  you  to  accept  of  a  jack,  which  is  the 
best  I  have  caught  this  season.  I  intend  to  come 
and  stay  with  you  a  week,  and  see  how  the  perch 
20  bite  in  the  Black  Eiver.  I  observed  with  some 
concern,  the  last  time  I  saw  you  upon  the  bowling- 
green,  that  your  whip  wanted  a  lash  to  it;    I  will 


VIl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  39 

bring  half  a  dozen  with  me  that  I  twisted  last  week, 
which  I  hope  will  serve  you  all  the  time  you  are  in 
the  country.  I  have  not  been  out  of  the  saddle  for 
six  days  last  past^  having  been  at  Eton  with  Sir  John's 
eldest  son.     He  takes  to  his  learning  hugely.  5 

"  I  am,  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"Will  Wimble.'^ 

This  extraordinary  letter,  and  message  that  accom- 
X3anied  it,  made  me  very  curious  to  know  the  char- 
acter and  quality  of  the  gentleman  who  sent  them,  lo 
which  I  found  to  be  as  follows.  Will  Wimble  is 
younger  brother^  to  a  baronet,  and  descended  of  the 
ancient  family  of  the  Wimbles.  He  is  now  between 
forty  and  fifty ;  but  being  bred  to  no  business  and 
born  to  no  estate,  he  generally  lives  with  his  elder  15 
brother  as  superintendent  of  his  game.  He  hunts  a 
pack  of  dogs  better  than  any  man  in  the  country,  and 
is  very  famous  for  finding  out  a  hare.  He  is  ex- 
tremely well  versed  in  all  the  little  handicrafts  of  an 
idle  man :  he  makes  a  may-fly°  to  a  miracle,  and  fur-  20 
nishes  the  whole  country  with  angle-rods.  As  he  is 
a  good-natured,  officious  fellow,  and  very  much  es- 
teemed upon  account  of  his  family,  he  is  a  welcome 
guest  at  every  house,  and  keeps  up  a  good  correspon- 


40  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [vil 

dence  among  all  the  gentlemen  about  him.  He  car- 
ries a  tulip-root°  in  his  pocket  from  one  to  another,  or 
exchanges  a  puppy  between  a  couple  of  friends  that 
live   perhaps  in  the   opposite   sides   of   the   county. 

5  Will  is  a  particular  favorite  of  all  the  young  heirs, 
whom  he  frequently  obliges  with  a  net  that  he  has 
weaved,  or  a  setting-dog  that  he  has  made  himself. 
He  now  and  then  presents  a  pair  of  garters  of  his  own 
knitting  to  their  mothers  or  sisters  ;  and  raises  a  great 

10  deal  of  mirth  among  them,  by  inquiring  as  often  as 
he  meets  them  how  they  wear.  These  gentleman-like 
manufactures  and  obliging  little  humors  make  Will 
the  darling  of  the  country. 

Sir  Eoger  was  proceeding  in  the  character  of  him, 

15  when  we  saw  him  make  up  to  us  with  two  or  three 
hazel-twigs  in  his  hand,  that  he  had  cut  in  Sir  Eoger's 
woods,  as  he  came  through  them  in  his  way  to  the 
house.  I  Avas  very  much  pleased  to  observe  on  one 
side  the  hearty  and  sincere  welcome  with  which  Sir 

20  Eoger  received  him,  and,  on  the  other,  the  secret  joy 
which  his  guest  discovered  at  sight  of  the  good  old 
Knight.  After  the  first  salutes  were  over.  Will  de- 
sired Sir  Eoger  to  lend  him  one  of  his  servants  to 
carry  a  set  of  shuttlecocks  he  had  with  him  in  a  little 

25  box,  to  a  lady  that  lived  about  a  mile  off,  to  whom  it 


VIl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  41 

seems  he  had  promised  such  a  present  for  above  this 
half  year.  Sir  Eoger's  back  was  no  sooner  turned 
but  honest  Will  began  to  tell  me  of  a  large  cock- 
pheasant  that  he  had  sprung  in  one  of  the  neighbor- 
ing woods,  with  two  or  three  other  adventures  of  the  5 
same  nature.  Odd  and  uncommon  characters  are  the 
game  that  I  look  for  and  most  delight  in ;  for  which 
reason  I  was  as  much  pleased  with  the  novelty  of  the 
person  that  talked  to  me,  as  he  could  be  for  his  life 
with  the  springing  of  a  pheasant,  and  therefore  lis-  10 
tened  to  him  with  more  than  ordinary  attention. 

In  the  midst  of  his  discourse  the  bell  rung  to  din- 
ner, where  the  gentleman  I  have  been  speaking  of  had 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  huge  jack  he  had  caught 
served  up  for  the  first  dish  in  a  most  sumptuous  15 
manner.  Upon  our  sitting  down  to  it  he  gave  us  a 
long  account  how  he  had  hooked  it,  played  with  it, 
foiled  it,  and  at  length  drew  it  out  upon  the  bank, 
with  several  other  particulars  that  lasted  all  the  first 
course.  A  dish  of  wild-fowl  that  came  afterwards  20 
furnished  conversation  for  the  rest  of  the  dinner, 
which  concluded  with  a  late  invention  of  Will's  for 
improving  the  quail-pipe.° 

Upon  withdrawing  into  my  room  after   dinner,  I 
was   secretly  touched  with   compassion  towards  the  25 


42  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS         [vil 

honest  gentleman  that  had  dined  with  us,  and  could 
not  but  consider,  with  a  great  deal  of  concern,  how 
so  good  an  heart  and  such  busy  hands  were  wholly 
employed  in  trifles ;  that  so  much  humanity  should  be 

5  so  little  beneficial  to  others,  and  so  much  industry  so 
little  advantageous  to  himself.  The  same  temper  of 
mind  and  application  to  affairs  might  have  recom- 
mended him  to  the  public  esteem,  and  have  raised 
his  fortune  in  another  station  of  life.     What  good  to 

10  his  country  or  himself  might  not  a  trader  or  mer- 
chant have  done  with  such  useful  though  ordinary 
qualifications  ? 

Will   Wimble's   is  the   case   of   many   a    younger 
brother  of  a  great  family,  who  had  rather  see  their 

15  children  starve  like  gentlemen  than  thrive  in  a  trade 
or  profession  that  is  beneath  their  quality.  This 
humor  fills  several  parts  of  Europe  with  pride  and 
beggary.  It  is  the  happiness  of  a  trading  nation, 
like  ours,  that  the  younger  sons,  though  uncapable  of 

20  any  liberal  art  or  profession,  may  be  placed  in  such 
a  way  of  life  as  may  perhaps  enable  them  to  vie  with 
the  best  of  their  family.  Accordingly,  we  find  sev- 
eral citizens  that  were  launched  into  the  world  with 
narrow  fortunes,   rising  by   an   honest    industry   to 

25  greater  estates  than  those  of  their  elder  brothers.     It 


VIIl]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  43 

is  not  improbable  but  Will  was  formerly  tried  at 
divinity,  law,  or  physic ;  and  that  finding  his  genius 
did  not  lie  that  way,  his  parents  gave  him  up  at 
length  to  his  own  inventions.  But  certainly,  how- 
ever improper  he  might  have  been  for  studies  of  a  5 
higher  nature,  he  was  perfectly  well  turned  for  the 
occupations  of  trade  and  commerce.  As  I  think  this 
is  a  point  which  cannot  be  too  much  inculcated,  I 
shall  desire  my  reader  to  compare  what  I  have  here 
written  with  what  I  have  said  in  my  twenty-first  10 
speculation. 

YIII.     A  SUNDAY  AT  SIR  ROGER'S. 

I  AM  always  very  well  pleased  with  a  country  Sun- 
day, and  think,  if  keeping  holy  the  seventh  day  were 
only  a  human°  institution,  it  would  be  the  best  method 
that  could  have  been  thought  of  for  the  polishing  and  15 
civilizing  of  mankind.  It  is  certain  the  country  peo- 
ple would  soon  degenerate  into  a  kind  of  savages  and 
barbarians,  were  there  not  such  frequent  returns  of  a 
stated  time,  in  which  the  whole  village  meet  together 
with  their  best  faces,  and  in  their  cleanliest  habits,  20 
to  converse  with  one  another  upon  indifferent  subjects, 
hear  their  duties  explained  to  them,  and  join  together 
in  adoration  of  the  Supreme  Being.     Sunday  clears 


44  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET   PAPERS        [vill 

away  the  rust  of  the  whole  week,  not  only  as  it  re- 
freshes in  their  minds  the  notions  of  religion,  but  as 
it  puts  both  the  sexes  upon  appearing  in  their  most 
agreeable  forms,  and  exerting  all  such  qualities  as  are 

5  apt  to  give  them  a  figure  in  the  eye  of  the  village.  A 
country  fellow  distinguishes  himself  as  much  in  the 
churchyard,  as  a  citizen  does  upon  the  ' Change, °  the 
whole  parish  politics  being  generally  discussed  in  that 
place,  either  after  sermon  or  before  the  bell  rings. 

10  My  friend  Sir  Eoger,  being  a  good  churchman,  has 
beautified  the  inside  of  his  church  with  several  texts 
of  his  own  choosing;  he  has  likewise  given  a  hand- 
some pulpit  cloth,  and  railed  in  the  communion-table 
at  his  own  expense.     He  has  often  told  me  that,  at 

15  his  coming  to  his  estate,  he  found  his  parishioners 
very  irregular;  and  that  in  order  to  make  them  kneel 
and  join  in  the  responses,  he  gave  every  one  of  them 
a  hassock  and  a  Common  Prayer  Book:  and  at  the 
same  time  employed  an  itinerant  singing-master,  who 

20  goes  about  the  country  for  that  purpose,  to  instruct 
them  rightly  in  the  tunes  of  the  Psalms ;  upon  which 
they  now  very  much  value  themselves,  and  indeed 
outdo  most  of  the  country  churches  that  I  have  ever 
heard. 

25       As  Sir  Eoger  is  landlord  to  the  whole  congregation, 


VIIl]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  45 

he  keeps  them  in  very  good  order,  and  will  suffer 
nobody  to  sleep  in  it  besides  himself;  for  if  by  chance 
he  has  been  surprised  into  a  short  nap  at  sermon, 
upon  recovering  out  of  it  he  stands  up  and  looks  about 
him,  and,  if  he  sees  anybody  else  nodding,  either 
wakes  them  himself,  or  sends  his  servant  to  them. 
Several  other  of  the  old  Knight's  particularities  break 
out  upon  these  occasions:  sometimes  he  will  be 
lengthening  out  a  verse  in  the  singing  Psalms  half  a 
minute  after  the  rest  of  the  congregation  have  done 
with  it;  sometimes,  when  he  is  pleased  with  the 
matter  of  his  devotion,  he  pronounces  "  Amen  "  three 
or  four  times  to  the  same  prayer;  and  sometimes 
stands  up  when  everybody  else  is  upon  their  knees, 
to  count  the  congregation,  or  see  if  any  of  his  tenants 
are  missing. 

I  was  yesterday  very  much  surprised  to  hear  my  old 
friend,  in  the  midst  of  the  service,  calling  out  to  one 
John  Matthews  to  mind  what  he  was  about,  and  not 
disturb  the  congregation.  This  Johii  Matthews  it 
seems  is  remarkable  for  being  an  idle  fellow,  and  at 
that  time  was  kicking  his  heels  for  his  diversion. 
This  authority  of  the  Knight,  though  exerted  in  that 
odd  manner  which  accompanies  him  in  all  circum- 
stances of  life,  has  a  very  good  effect  upon  the  parish, 


46  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS        [vill 

who  are  not  polite  enough  to  see  anything  ridiculous 
in  his  behavior;  besides  that  the  general  good  sense 
and  worthiness  of  his  character  makes  his  friends 
observe  these  little  singularities  as  foils  that  rather 

5    set  off  than  blemish  his  good  qualities. 

As  soon  as  the  sermon  is  finished,  nobody  presumes 
to  stir  till  Sir  Eoger  is  gone  out  of  the  church.  The 
Knight  walks  down  from  his  seat  in  the  chancel  be- 
tween a  double  row  of  his  tenants,  that  stand  bowing 

10  to  him  on  each  side,  and  every  now  and  then  inquires 
how  such  an  one's  wife,  or  mother,  or  son,  or  father 
do,  whom  he  does  not  see  at  church,  —  which  is  under- 
stood as  a  secret  reprimand  to  the  person  that  is  absent. 
The  chaplain  has  often  told  me,  that  upon  a  cate- 

15  chising-day,  when  Sir  Eoger  has  been  pleased  with  a 
boy  that  answers  well,  he  has  ordered  a  Bible  to  be 
given  him  next  day  for  his  encouragement,  and  some- 
times accompanies  it  with  a  flitch  of  bacon  to  his 
mother.     Sir  Eoger  has  likewise  added  five  pounds  a 

20  year  to  the  clerk's  place;  and  that  he  may  encourage 
the  young  fellows  to  make  themselves  perfect  in  the 
church  service,  has  promised,  upon  the  death  of  the 
present  incumbent,  who  is  very  old,  to  bestow  it 
according  to  merit. 

25       The  fair  understanding  between  Sir  Eoger  and  his 


VIll]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  47 

chaplain,  and  their  mutual  concurrence  in  doing  good, 
is  the  more  remarkable,  because  the  very  next  village 
is  famous  for  the  differences  and  contentions  that  rise 
between  the  parson  and  the  squire,  who  live  in  a  per- 
petual state  of  war.  The  parson  is  always  preaching  5 
at  the  squire,  and  the  squire,  to  be  revenged  on  the 
parson,  never  comes  to  church.  The  squire  has  made 
all  his  tenants  atheists  and  tithe-stealers ;  while  the 
parson  instructs  them  every  Sunday  in  the  dignity  of 
his  order,  and  insinuates  to  them  in  almost  every  ser-  10 
mon  that  he  is  a  better  man  than  his  patron.  In 
short,  matters  are  come  to  such  an  extremity,  that  the 
squire  has  not  said  his  prayers  either  in  public  or 
private  this  half  year ;  and  that  the  parson  threatens 
him,  if  he  does  not  mend  his  manners,  to  pray  for  15 
him  in  the  face  of  the  whole  congregation. 

Feuds  of  this  nature,  though  too  frequent  in  the 
country,  are  very  fatal  to  the  ordinary  people ;  who 
are  so  used  to  be  dazzled  with  riches,  that  they  pay 
as  much  deference  to  the  understanding  of  a  man  of  20 
an  estate  as  of  a  man  of  learning;  and  are  very  hardly 
brought  to  regard  any  truth,  how  important  soever  it 
may  be,  that  is  preached  to  them,  when  they  know 
there  are  several  men  of  five  hundred  a  year  who  do 
not  believe  it.  ^5 


48  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  [iX 

IX.     SIR   ROGER   AND   THE   WIDOW. 

In  my  first  description  of  the  company  in  which  I 
pass  most  of  my  time,  it  may  be  remembered  that  I 
mentioned  a  great  affliction  which  my  friend  Sir  Eoger 
had  met  with  in  his  youth :  which  was  no  less  than  a 

5  disappointment  in  love.  It  happened  this  evening 
that  we  fell  into  a  very  pleasing  walk  at  a  distance 
from  his  house;  as  soon  as  we  came  into  it,  "It  is," 
quoth  the  good  old  man,  looking  round  him  with  a 
smile,  "  very  hard,  that  any  part  of  my  land  should 

lo  be  settled  upon  one  who  has  used  me  so  ill  as  the 
perverse  Widow  did;  and  yet  I  am  sure  I  could  not 
see  a  sprig  of  any  bough  of  this  whole  walk  of  trees, 
but  I  should  reflect  upon  her  and  her  severity.  She 
has  certainly  the  finest  hand  of  any  woman  in  the 

15  world.  You  are  to  know  this  was  the  place  wherein 
I  used  to  muse  upon  her;  and  by  that  custom  I  can 
never  come  into  it,  but  the  same  tender  sentiments 
revive  in  my  mind  as  if  I  had  actually  walked  with 
that  beautiful  creature  under  these  shades.     I  have 

20  been  fool  enough  to  carve°  her  name  on  the  bark  of 
several  of  these  trees ;  so  unhappy  is  the  condition  of 
men  in  love  to  attempt  the  removing  of  their  passion 
by  the  methods  which  serve  only  to  imprint  it  deeper. 


ix]  SIB    ROGER   DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  49 

She  has  certainly  the  finest  hand  of  any  woman  in 
the  world." 

Here  followed  a  profound  silence;  and  I  was  not 
displeased  to  observe  my  friend  falling  so  naturally 
into  a  discourse  which  I  had  ever  before  taken  notice  5 
he  industriously  avoided.  After  a  very  long  pause 
he  entered  upon  an  account  of  this  great  circumstance 
in  his  life,  with  an  air  which  I  thought  raised  my 
idea  of  him  above  what  I  had  ever  had  before;  and 
gave  me  the  picture  of  that  cheerful  mind  of  his,  10 
before  it  received  that  stroke  which  has  ever  since 
affected  his  words  and  actions.  But  he  went  on  as 
follows :  — 

"  I  came  to  my  estate  in  my  twenty-second  year, 
and  resolved  to  follow  the  steps  of  the  most  worthy  of  15 
my  ancestors  who  have  inhabited  this  spot  of  earth 
before  me,  in  all  the  methods  of  hospitality  and  good 
neighborhood,  for  the  sake  of  my  fame,  and  in  country 
sports  and  recreations,  for  the  sake  of  ray  health.  In 
my  twenty-third  year  I  was  obliged  to  serve  as  sheriff  20 
of  the  county ;  and  in  my  servants,  officers,  and  whole 
equipage,  indulged  the  pleasure  of  a  young  man  (who 
did  not  think  ill  of  his  own  person)  in  taking  that 
public  occasion  of  showing  my  figure  and  behavior  to 
advantage.     You  may  easily  imagine  to  yourself  what  25 


50  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [ix 

appearance  I  made,  who  am  pretty  tall,  rid  well,  and 
was  very  well  dressed,  at  the  head  of  a  whole  county, 
with  music  before  me,  a  feather  in  my  hat,  and  my 
horse  well  bitted.     I  can  assure  you  I  was  not  a  little 

5  pleased  with  the  kind  looks  and  glances  I  had  from 
all  the  balconies  and  windows  as  I  rode  to  the  hall 
where  the  assizes  were  held.  But  when  I  came  there, 
a  beautiful  creature  in  a  widow's  habit  sat  in  court, 
to  hear  the  event  of  a  cause  concerning  her  dower. 

10  This  commanding  creature  (who  was  born  for  destruc- 
tion of  all  who  behold  her)  put  on  such  a  resignation 
in  her  countenance,  and  bore  the  whispers  of  all  around 
the  court  with  such  a  pretty  uneasiness,  I  warrant 
you,   and  then  recovered  herself  from  one  eye  to 

15  another,  till  she  was  perfectly  confused  by  meeting 
something  so  wistful  in  all  she  encountered,  that  at 
last,  with  a  murrain  to  her,  she  cast  her  bewitching 
eye  upon  me.  I  no  sooner  met  it  but  I  bowed  like  a 
great  surprised  booby ;  and  knowing  her  cause  to  be 

20  the  first  which  came  on,  I  cried,  like  a  captivated  calf 
as  I  was,  'Make  way  for  the  defendant's  witnesses.' 
This  sudden  partiality  made  all  the  county  immedi- 
ately see  the  sheriff  also  was  become  a  slave  to  the 
fine  widow.     During  the  time  her  cause  was  upon 

25  trial,  she  behaved  herself,  I  warrant  you,  with  such 


ix]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  51 

a  deep  attention  to  her  business,  took  opportunities 
to  have  little  billets  handed  to  her  counsel,  then  would 
be  in  such  a  pretty  confusion,  occasioned,  you  must 
know,  by  acting  before  so  much  company,  that  not 
only  I  but  the  whole  court  was  prejudiced  in  her  5 
favor ;  and  all  that  the  next  heir  to  her  husband  had 
to  urge  was  thought  so  groundless  and  frivolous,  that 
when  it  came  to  her  counsel  to  reply,  there  was  not 
half  so  much  said  as  every  one  besides  in  the  court 
thought  he  could  have  urged  to  her  advantage.  You  10 
must  understand,  sir,  this  perverse  woman  is  one  of 
those  unaccountable  creatures,  that  secretly  rejoice  in 
the  admiration  of  men,  but  indulge  themselves  in  no 
further  consequences.  Hence  it  is  that  she  has  ever 
had  a  train  of  admirers,  and  she  removes  from  her  15 
slaves  in  town  to  those  in  the  country,  according  to 
the  seasons  of  the  year.  She  is  a  reading  lady,  and 
far  gone  in  the  pleasures  of  friendship :  she  is  always 
accompanied  by  a  confidant,  who  is  witness  to  her 
daily  protestations  against  our  sex,  and  consequently  20 
a  bar  to  her  first  steps  towards  love,  upon  the  strength 
of  her  own  maxims  and  declarations. 

"  However,  I  must  needs  say  this  accomplished  mis- 
tress of  mine  has  distinguished  me  above  the  rest,  and 
has  been  known  to  declare  Sir  Eoger  de  Coverley  was  25 


52  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [ix 

the  tamest  and  most  human  of  all  the  brutes  in  the 
country.  I  was  told  she  said  so  by  one  who  thought 
he  rallied  me;  but  upon  the  strength  of  this  slender 
encouragement  of  being  thought  least  detestable,  I 

5  made  new  liveries,  new-paired  my  coach-horses,  sent 
them  all  to  town  to  be  bitted,  and  taught  to  throw 
their  legs  well,  and  move  all  together,  before  I  pre- 
tended to  cross  the  country  and  wait  upon  her.  As 
soon  as  I  thought  my  retinue  suitable  to  the  character 

10  of  my  fortune  and  youth,  I  set  out  from  hence  to  make 
my  addresses.  The  particular  skill  of  this  lady  has 
ever  been  to  inflame  your  wishes,  and  yet  command 
respect.  To  make  her  mistress  of  this  art,  she  has  a 
greater  share  of  knowledge,  wit,  and  good  sense  than 

15  is  usual  even  among  men  of  merit.  Then  she  is 
beautiful  beyond  the  race  of  women.  If  you  won't  let 
her  go  on  with  a  certain  artifice  with  her  eyes,  and 
the  skill  of  beauty,  she  will  arm  herself  with  her  real 
charms,  and  strike  you  with  admiration.     It  is  certain 

20  that  if  you  were  to  behold  the  whole  woman,  there  is 
that  dignity  in  her  aspect,  that  composure  in  her 
motion,  that  complacency  in  her  manner,  that  if  her 
form  makes  you  hope,  her  merit  makes  you  fear.  But 
then  again,  she  is  such  a  desperate  scholar,  that  no 

25  country  gentleman  can  approach  her  without  being  a 


ix]  SIR    ROGER    BE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  53 

jest.  As  I  was  going  to  tell  you,  when  I  came  to  her 
house  I  was  admitted  to  her  presence  with  great  civil- 
ity; at  the  same  time  she  placed  herself  to  be  first 
seen  by  me  in  such  an  attitude,  as  I  think  you  call 
the  posture  of  a  picture,  that  she  discovered  new  5 
charms,  and  I  at  last  came  towards  her  with  such  an 
awe  as  made  me  speechless.  This  she  no  sooner  ob- 
served but  she  made  her  advantage  of  it,  and  began  a 
discourse  to  me  concerning  love  and  honor,  as  they 
both  are  followed  by  pretenders,  and  the  real  votaries  lo 
to  them.  When  she  had  discussed  these  points  in  a 
discourse,  which  I  verily  believe  was  as  learned  as 
the  best  philosopher  in  Europe  could  possibly  make, 
she  asked  me  whether  she  was  so  happy  as  to  fall  in 
with  my  sentiments  on  these  important  particulars.  15 
Her  confidant  sat  by  her,  and  upon  my  being  in  the 
last  confusion  and  silence,  this  malicious  aid  of  hers 
turning  to  her  says,  *I  am  very  glad  to  observe  Sir 
Eoger  pauses  upon  this  subject,  and  seems  resolved 
to  deliver  all  his  sentiments  upon  the  matter  when  he  20 
pleases  to  speak. '  They  both  kept  their  countenances, 
and  after  I  had  sat  half  an  hour  meditating  how  to 
behave  before  such  profound  casuists,  I  rose  up  and 
took  my  leave.  Chance  has  since  that  time  thrown 
me  very  often  in  her  way,  and  she  as  often  has  directed  25 


54  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS  [ix 

a  discourse  to  me  which  I  do  not  understand.  This 
barbarity  has  kept  me  ever  at  a  distance  from  the  most 
beautiful  object  my  eyes  ever  beheld.  It  is  thus  also 
she  deals  with  all  mankind,  and  you  must  make  love 

5  to  her,  as  you  would  conquer  the  sphinx,  by  posing 
her.  But  were  she  like  other  women,  and  that  there 
were  any  talking  to  her,  how  constant  must  the  pleasure 
of  that  man  be,  who  could  converse  with  a  creature  — 
But,  after  all,  you  may  be  sure  her  heart  is  fixed  on 

10  some  one  or  other;  and  yet  I  have  been  credibly  in- 
formed —  but  who  can  believe  half  that  is  said  ? 
After  she  had  done  speaking  to  me,  she  put  her  hand 
to  her  bosom  and  adjusted  her  tucker.  Then  she  cast 
her  eyes  a  little  down,  upon  my  beholding  her  too 

15  earnestly.  They  say  she  sings  excellently ;  her  voice 
in  her  ordinary  speech  has  something  in  it  inexpressi- 
bly sweet.  You  must  know  I  dined  with  her  at  a 
public  table  the  day  after  I  first  saw  her,  and  she 
helped  me  to  some  tansy  in  the  eye  of  all  the  gentle- 

20  men  in  the  country :  she  has  certainly  the  finest  hand 
of  any  woman  in  the  world.  I  can  assure  you,  sir, 
were  you  to  behold  her,  you  would  be  in  the  same 
condition;  for  as  her  speech  is  music,  her  form  is 
angelic.     But  I  find  I  grow  irregular  while  I  am  talk- 

25  ing  of  her;   but  indeed  it  would  be  stupidity  to  be 


IX]  sin    nOGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  55 

unconcerned  at  such  perfection.  Oh  the  excellent 
creature !  she  is  as  inimitable  to  all  women  as  she  is 
inaccessible  to  all  men." 

I  found  my  friend  begin  to  rave,  and  insensibly  led 
him  towards  the  house,  that  we  might  be  joined  by  5 
some  other  company^  and  am  convinced  that  the 
Widow  is  the  secret  cause  of  all  that  inconsistency 
which  appears  in  some  parts  of  my  friend's  discourse; 
though  he  has  so  much  command  of  himself  as  not 
directly  to  mention  her,  yet  according  to  that  [passage]  10 
of  Martial,  °  which  one  knows  not  how  to  render  in 
English,  Dum  tacet  Jianc  loquitur. °  I  shall  end  this 
paper  with  that  whole  epigram,  which  represents  with 
much  humor  my  honest  friend's  condition. 

Quicquid  agit  Rufus,  nihil  est,  nisi  Nsevia  Rufo,  15 

Si  gaiidet,  si  flet,  si  tacet,  hanc  loquitur : 

Coenat,  propinat,  poscit,  negat,  annuit,  una  est 
Nsevia  ;  si  non  sit  Nsevia,  mutus  erit. 

Scriberet  hesterna  patri  cum  luce  salutem, 
Nsevia  lux,  inquit,  Nsevia  lumen,  ave.  20 

Let  Rufus  weep,  rejoice,  stand,  sit,  or  walk, 

Still  he  can  nothing  but  of  Nsevia  talk  ; 

Let  him  eat,  drink,  ask  questions,  or  dispute, 

Still  he  must  speak  of  Nsevia,  or  be  mute  ; 

He  writ  to  his  father,  ending  with  this  line, 

"  I  am,  my  lovely  Nsevia,  ever  thine."  25 


56  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [x 

X.    BODILY  EXERCISE. 

Bodily  labor  is  of  two  kinds,  either  that  which  a 
man  submits  to  for  his  livelihood,  or  that  which  he 
undergoes  for  his  pleasure.  The  latter  of  them  gen- 
erally changes  the  name  of  labor  for  that  of  exercise, 
but  differs  only  from  ordinary  labor  as  it  rises  from 
another  motive. 

A  country  life  abounds  in  both  these  kinds  of  labor, 
and  for  that  reason  gives  a  man  a  greater  stock  of 
health,  and  consequently  a  more  perfect  enjoyment  of 
himself,  than  any  other  way  of  life.  I  consider  the 
body  as  a  system  of  tubes  and  glands,  or,  to  use  a 
more  rustic  phrase,  a  bundle  of  pipes  and  strainers, 
fitted  to  one  another  after  so  wonderful  a  manner  as 
to  make  a  proper  engine  for  the  soul  to  work  with. 
This  description  does  not  only  comprehend  the  bowels, 
bones,  tendons,  veins,  nerves,  and  arteries,  but  every 
muscle  and  every  ligature,  which  is  a  composition  of 
fibres,  that  are  so  many  imperceptible  tubes  or  pipes 
interwoven  on  all  sides  with  invisible  glands  or 
'  strainers. 

This  general  idea  of  a  human  body,  without  con- 
sidering it  in  its  niceties  of  anatomy,  lets  us  see  how 
absolutely  necessary  labor  is  for  the  right  preservation 


X]  SIR    ROGER    BE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  57 

of  it.  There  must  be  frequent  motions  and  agitations, 
to  mix,  digest,  and  separate  the  juices  "contained  in  it, 
as  well  as  to  clear  and  cleanse  that  infinitude  of  pipes 
and  strainers  of  which  it  is  composed,  and  to  give 
their  solid  parts  a  more  firm  and  lasting  tone.  Labor  5 
or-  exercise  ferments  the  humors,  casts  them  into  their 
proper  channels,  throws  off  redundancies,  and  helps 
nature  in  those  secret  distributions,  without  which  the 
body  cannot  subsist  in  its  vigor,  nor  the  soul  act  with 
cheerfulness.  lo 

I  might  here  mention  the  effects  which  this  has 
upon  all  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  by  keeping  the 
understanding  clear,  the  imagination  untroubled,  and 
refining  those  spirits  that  are  necessary  for  the  proper 
exertion  of  our  intellectual  faculties,  during  the  pres-  15 
ent  laws  of  union  between  soul  and  body.  It  is  to  a 
neglect  in  this  particular  that  we  must  ascribe  the 
spleen  which  is  so  frequent  in  men  of  studious  and 
sedentary  tempers,  as  well  as  the  vapors  to  which 
those  of  the  other  sex  are  so  often  subject.  20 

Had  not  exercise  been  absolutely  necessitry  for  our 
well-being,  nature  would  not  have  made  the  body  so 
proper  for  it,  by  giving  such  an  activity  to  the  limbs,  and 
such  a  pliancy  to  every  part  as  necessarily  produce  those 
compressions,  extensions,  contortions,  dilatations,  and  25 


58  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [x 

all  other  kinds  of  motions  that  are  necessary  for  the 
preservation  of  such  a  system  of  tubes  and  glands  as 
has  been  before  mentioned.  And  that  we  might  not 
want  inducements  to  engage  us  in  such  an  exercise  of 

5  the  body  as  is  proper  for  its  welfare,  it  is  so  ordered 
that  nothing  valuable  can  be  procured  without  it. 
Not  to  mention  riches  and  honor,  even  food  and  rai- 
ment are  not  to  be  come  at  without  the  toil  of  the 
hands   and    sweat    of   the    brows.     Providence   fur- 

10  nishes  materials,  but  expects  that  we  should  work 
them  up  ourselves.  The  earth  must  be  labored  be- 
fore it  gives  its  increase,  and  when  it  is  forced  into 
its  several  products,  how  many  hands  must  they  pass 
through  before  they  are  fit  for  use !     Manufactures, 

1 5  trade,  and  agriculture  naturally  employ  more  than 
nineteen  parts  of  the  species  in  twenty :  and  as  for 
those  who  are  not  obliged  to  labor,  by  the  condition 
in  which  they  are  born,  they  are  more  miserable  than 
the  rest  of  mankind  unless  they  indulge  themselves  in 

20  that  voluntary  labor  which  goes  by  the  name  of  exercise. 

My  friend  Sir  Eoger  has  been  an  indefatigable  man 

in  business  of  this  kind,  and  has  hung  several  parts  of 

his  house  with  the  trophies  of  his  former  labors.     The 

walls  of  his  great  hall  are  covered  with  the  horns  of 

25  several  kinds  of  deer  that  he  has  killed  in  the  chase, 


X]  SIR    ROGER    BE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS  59 

which  he  thinks  the  most  valuable  furniture  of  his 
house,  as  they  afford  him  frequent  topics  of  discourse, 
and  show  that  he  has  not  been  idle.  At  the  lower 
end  of  the  hall  is  a  large  otter's  skin  stuffed  with  hay, 
which  his  mother  ordered  to  be  hung  up  in  that  man-  5 
ner,  and  the  Knight  looks  upon  with  great  satisfaction, 
because  it  seems  he  was  but  nine  years  old  when  his 
dog  killed  him.  A  little  room  adjoining  to  the  hall  is 
a  kind  of  arsenal  filled  with  guns  of  several  sizes  and 
inventions,  with  which  the  Knight  has  made  great  lo 
havoc  in  the  woods,  and  destroyed  many  thousands  of 
pheasants,  partridges,  and  woodcocks.  His  stable 
doors  are  patched  with  noses  that  belonged  to  foxes 
of  the  Knight's  own  hunting  down.  Sir  Eoger  showed 
me  one  of  them  that  for  distinction's  sake  has  a  brass  15 
nail  struck  through  it,  which  cost  him  about  fifteen 
hours'  riding,  carried  him  through  half  a  dozen  coun- 
ties, killed  him  a  brace  of  geldings,  and  lost  about  half 
his  dogs.  This  the  Knight  looks  upon  as  one  of  the 
greatest  exploits  of  his  life.  The  perverse  Widow,  20 
whom  I  have  given  some  account  of,  was  the  death  of 
several  foxes ;  for  Sir  Roger  has  told  me  that  in  the 
course  of  his  amours  he  patched  the  western  door  of 
his  stable.  Whenever  the  Widow  was  cruel,  the  foxes 
were  sure  to  pay  for  it.     In  proportion  as  his  passion  25 


60  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [x 

for  the  Widow  abated  and  old  age  came  on,  he  left  off 
fox-hunting  ;  but  a  hare  is  not  yet  safe  that  sits  within 
ten  miles  of  his  house. 

There  is  no  kind  of   exercise  which    I  would  so 

5  recommend  to  my  readers  of  both  sexes  as  this  of 
riding,  as  there  is  none  which  so  much  conduces  to 
health,  and  is  every  way  accommodated  to  the  body, 
according  to  the  idea  which  I  have  given  of  it.  Doc- 
tor Sydenham  is  very  lavish  in  its  praises ;  and  if  the 

10  English  reader  will  see  the  mechanical  effects  of  it 
described  at  length,  he  may  find  them  in  a  book  pub- 
lished not  many  years  since  under  the  title  of  Medi- 
cina  Gymiiastica.  For  my  own  part,  when  I  am  in 
town,  for  want  of  these  opportunities,  I  exercise  my- 

15  self  an  hour  every  morning  upon  a  dumb-bell  that 
is  placed  in  a  corner  of  my  room,  and  pleases  me  the 
more  because  it  does  everything  I  require  of  it  in 
the  most  profound  silence.  My  landlady  and  her 
daughters  are  so  well  acquainted  with  my  hours  of 

20  exercise,  that  they  never  come  into  my  room  to  dis- 
turb me  whilst  I  am  ringing. 

When  I  was  some  years  younger  than  I  am  at 
present,  I  used  to  employ  myself  in  a  more  laborious 
diversion,  which  I  learned  from  a  Latin  treatise  of  ex- 

25  ercises  that  is  written  with  great  erudition ;  it  is  there 


Xl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  61 

called  the  o-/cto/xaxta,  or  the  fighting  with  a  man's  own 
shadow,  and  consists  in  the  brandishing  of  two  short 
sticks  grasped  in  each  hand,  and  loaden  with  plugs  of 
lead  at  either  end.  This  opens  the  chest,  exercises 
the  limbs,  and  gives  a  man  all  the  pleasure  of  boxing,  5 
without  the  blows.  I  could  wish  that  several  learned 
men  would  lay  out  that  time  which  they  employ  in 
controversies  and  disputes  about  nothing,  in  this 
method  of  fighting  with  their  own  shadows.  It  might 
conduce  very  much  to  evaporate  the  spleen,  which  to 
makes  them  uneasy  to  the  public  as  well  as  to 
themselves. 

To  conclude :  As  I  am  a  compound  of  soul  and 
body,  I  consider  myself  as  obliged  to  a  double  scheme 
of  duties ;  and  I  think  I  have  not  fulfilled  the  busi-  15 
ness  of  the  day  when  I  do  not  thus  employ  the  one 
in  labor  and  exercise,  as  well  as  the  other  in  study  and 
contemplation. 

XI.     THE   COVERLET   HUNT. 

Those  who  have  searched  into  human  nature  ob- 
serve, that  nothing  so  much  shows  the  nobleness  of  20 
the  soul,  as  that  its  felicity  consists  in  action.     Every 
man  has  such  an  active  principle  in  him,  that  he  will 
find  out  something  to  employ  himself  upon,  in  what- 


62  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS  [xi 

ever  place  or  state  of  life  he  is  posted.  I  have  heard 
of  a  gentleman  who  was  under  close  confinement  in 
the  Bastile°  seven  years ;  during  which  time  he  amused 
himself    in   scattering   a   few   small   pins   about   his 

5  chamber,  gathering  them  up  again,  and  placing  them 
in  different  figures  on  the  arm  of  a  great  chair.  He 
often  told  his  friends  afterwards,  that  unless  he  had 
found  out  this  piece  of  exercise,  he  verily  believed  he 
should  have  lost  his  senses. 

10  After  w^hat  has  been  said,  I  need  not  inform  my 
readers,  that  Sir  Eoger,  with  whose  character  I  hope 
they  are  at  present  pretty  well  acquainted,  has  in  his 
youth  gone  through  the  whole  course  of  those  rural 
diversions  which  the  country  abounds  in ;  and  which 

15  seem  to  be  extremely  well  suited  to  that  laborious 
industry  a  man  may  observe  here  in  a  far  greater 
degree  than  in  towns  and  cities.  I  have  before  hinted 
at  some  of  my  friend's  exploits :  he  has  in  his  youthful 
days  taken  forty  coveys  of  partridges  in  a  season ;  and 

20  tired  many  a  salmon  with  a  line  consisting  but  of  a 
single  hair.  Tlie  constant  thanks  and  good  wishes  of 
the  neighborhood  always  attended  him  on  account 
of  his  remarkable  enmity  towards  foxes ;  having 
destroyed  more  of  those  vermin  in  one  year  than  it 

25  was  thought  the  whole  country  could  have  produced. 


Xl]  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  63 

Indeed,  the  Knight  does  not  scruple  to  own  among  his 
most  intimate  friends,  that  in  order  to  establish  his 
reputation  this  way,  he  has  secretly  sent  for  great 
numbers  of  them  out  of  other  counties,  which  he  used 
to  turn  loose  about  the  country  by  night,  that  he  5 
might  the  better  signalize  himself  in  their  destruction 
the  next  day.  His  hunting  horses  were  the  finest  and 
best  managed  in  all  these  parts  :  his  tenants  are  still 
full  of  the  praises  of  a  gray  stone  horse  that  unhap- 
pily staked  himself  several  years  since,  and  was  buried  lo 
with  great  solemnity  in  the  orchard. 

Sir  Koger,  being  at  present  too  old  for  fox-hunting, 
to  keep  himself  in  action,  has  disposed  of  his  beagles 
and  got  a  pack  of  stop-hounds.  What  these  want  in 
speed  he  endeavors  to  make  amends  for  by  the  deep-  15 
ness  of  their  mouths  and  the  variety  of  their  notes, 
which  are  suited  in  such  manner  to  each  other  that 
the  whole  cry  makes  up  a  complete  concert.  He  is  so 
nice  in  this  particular,  that  a  gentleman  having  made 
him  a  present  of  a  very  fine  hound  the  other  day,  the  20 
Knight  returned  it  by  the  servant  with  a  great  many 
expressions  of  civility ;  but  desired  him  to  tell  his 
master  that  the  dog  he  had  sent  was  indeed  a  most 
excellent  base,  but  that  at  present  he  only  wanted  a 
counter-tenor.      Could   I  believe  my  friend  had  ever  25 


64  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [xi 

read  Shakespeare  I  should  certainly  conclude  he  had 
taken  the  hint  from  Theseus  in  the  Midsummer 
Mght's  Dream:  — 

My  hounds  are  bred  out  of  the  Spartan  kind, 
5  So  flew'd,  so  sanded  ;  and  their  heads  are  hung 

With  ears  that  sweep  away  the  morning  dew; 

Crook-knee'd  and  dew-lapp'd  like  Thessalian  bulls; 

Slow  in  pursuit,  but  match' d  in  mouth  like  bells, 

Each  under  each  :  a  cry  more  tuneable 
10  Was  never  holla'd  to,  nor  cheer'd  with  horn. 

Sir  Eoger  is  so  keen  at  this  sport  that  he  has  been 
out  almost  every  day  since  I  came  down;  and  upon 
the  chaplain's  offering  to  lend  me  his  easy  pad,  I  was 
prevailed  on  yesterday  morning  to  make  one  of  the 

15  company.  I  was  extremely  pleased,  as  we  rid  along, 
to  observe  the  general  benevolence  of  all  the  neighbor- 
hood towards  my  friend.  The  farmers'  sons  thought 
themselves  happy  if  they  could  open  a  gate  for  the 
good  old  Knight  as  he  passed  by ;  which  he  generally 

20  requited  with  a  nod  or  a  smile,  and  a  kind  inquiry 
after  their  fathers  and  uncles. 

After  we  had  rid  about  a  mile  from  home,  we  came 
upon  a  large  heath,  and  the  sportsmen  began  to  beat. 
They  had  done  so  for  some  time,  when,  as  I  was  at  a 

25  little  distance  from  the  rest  of  the  company,  I  saw 


Xl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  65 

a  hare  pop  out  from  a  small  furze-brake  almost  under 
my  horse's  feet.     I  marked  the  way  she  took,  which  I 
endeavored  to  make  the  company  sensible  of  by  ex- 
tending my  arm;  but  to  no  purpose,  till  Sir  Eoger, 
who  knows  that  none  of  my  extraordinary  motions  are    5 
insignificant,  rode  up  to  me,  and  asked  me  if  puss  was 
gone  that  way.     Upon  my  answering  "  Yes,"  he  im- 
mediately called  in  the  dogs  and  put  them  upon  the 
scent.      As  they  were  going  off,  I  heard  one  of  the 
country-fellows    muttering    to    his    companion    that  lo 
'twas  a  w^onder  they  had  not  lost  all  their  sport,  for 
want  of  the  silent  gentleman's  crying  "  Stole  aw^ay !  " 
This,  with  my  aversion  to  leaping  hedges,  made  me 
withdraw  to  a  rising  ground,  from  whence  I  could 
have   the   picture   of  the   whole  chase,  without  the  15 
fatigue   of  keeping   in  with   the  hounds.     The  hare 
immediately  threw  them  above  a  mile  behind  her; 
but  I  was  pleased  to  find  that  instead  of  running 
straight  forwards,  or  in  hunter's  language,  "  flying  the 
country,"  as  I  was  afraid  she  might  have  done,  she  20 
wheeled  about,  and  described  a  sort  of  circle  round 
the  hill  where  I  had  taken  my  station,  in  such  manner 
as  gave  me  a  very  distinct  view  of  the  sport.     I  could 
see  her  first  pass  by,  and  the  dogs  some  time  after- 
wards unravelling  the  whole  track  she  had  made,  and  25 


66  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS  [xi 

following  her  through  all  her  doubles.  I  was  at  the 
same  time  delighted  in  observing  that  deference  which 
the  rest  of  the  pack  paid  to  each  particular  hound, 
according  to  the  character  he  had  acquired  amongst 

5  them :  if  they  were  at  fault,  and  an  old  hound  of 
reputation  opened  but  once,  he  was  immediately  fol- 
lowed by  the  whole  cry  ;  while  a  raw  dog,  or  one  who 
was  a  noted  liar,  might  have  yelped  his  heart  out, 
without  being  taken  notice  of. 

10  The  hare  now,  after  having  squatted  two  or  three 
times,  and  been  put  up  again  as  often,  came  still  nearer 
to  the  place  where  she  was  at  first  started.  The  dogs 
pursued  her,  and  these  were  followed  by  the  jolly 
Knight,'  who  rode  upon  a  white  gelding,  encompassed 

15  by  his  tenants  and  servants,  and  cheering  his  hounds 
with  all  the  gaiety  of  five-and-twenty.  One  of  the 
sportsmen  rode  up  to  me,  and  told  me  that  he  was 
sure  the  chase  was  almost  at  an  end,  because  the  old 
dogs,  which  had  hitherto  lain  behind,  now  headed  the 

20  pack.  The  fellow  was  in  the  right.  Our  hare  took  a 
large  field  just  under  us,  followed  by  the  full  cry,  "  In 
view."  I  must  confess  the  brightness  of  the  weather, 
the  cheerfulness  of  everything  around  me,  the  chiding 
of  the  hounds,  which  was  returned  upon  us  in  a  double 

25  echo  from  two  neighboring  hills,  with  the  holloaing  of 


Xl]  SIM    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  67 

the  sportsmen^  and  the  sounding  of  the  horn,  lifted 
my  spirits  into  a  most  lively  pleasure,  which  I  freely 
indulged  because  I  was  sure  it  was  innocent.  If  I  was 
under  any  concern,  it  was  on  the  account  of  the  poor 
hare,  that  was  now  quite  spent,  and  almost  within  the  5 
reach  of  her  enemies;  when  the  huntsman,  getting 
forward,  threw  down  his  pole  before  the  dogs.  They 
were  now  within  eight  yards  of  that  game  which  they 
had  been  pursuing  for  almost  as  many  hours ;  yet  on 
the  signal  before-mentioned  they  all  made  a  sudden  lo 
stand,  and  though  they  continued  opening  as  much  as 
before,  durst  not  once  attempt  to  pass  beyond  the 
pole.  At  the  same  time  Sir  Eoger  rode  forward,  and 
alighting,  took  up  the  hare  in  his  arms ;  which  he 
soon  delivered  up  to  one  of  his  servants  with  an  15 
order,  if  she  could  be  kept  alive,  to  let  her  go  in  his 
great  orchard ;  where  it  seems  he  has  several  of  these 
prisoners  of  war,  who  live  together  in  a  very  comfort- 
able captivity.  I  was  highly  pleased  to  see  the  disci- 
pline of  the  pack,  and  the  good  nature  of  the  Knight,  20 
who  could  not  find  in  his  heart  to  murder  a.  creature 
that  had  given  him  so  much  diversion. 

As  we  were  returning  home,  I  remembered  that 
Monsieur  Pascal,°  in  his  most  excellent  discourse  on 
the  Misery  of  Man,  tells  us,  that  all  our  endeavors  25 


68  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [xi 

after  greatness  proceed  from  nothing  but  a  desire  of 
being  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of  persons  and 
affairs  that  may  hinder  us  from  looking  into  our- 
selves, which  is  a  view  we  cannot   bear.     He   after- 

5  wards  goes  on  to  show  that  our  love  of  sports  comes 
from  the  same  reason,  and  is  particularly  severe  upon 
hunting.  "What/'  says  he,  "unless  it  be  to  drown 
thought,  can  make  men  throw  away  so  much  time 
and  pains  upon  a  silly  animal,  which  they  might  buy 

10  cheaper  in  the  market  ? ''  The  foregoing  reflection  is 
certainly  just,  when  a  man  suffers  his  whole  mind  to 
be  drawn  into  his  sports,  and  altogether  loses  himself 
in  the  woods ;  but  does  not  affect  those  who  propose 
a  far  more  laudable  end  for   this   exercise,  I   mean 

15  the  preservation  of  health,  and  keeping  all  the  organs 
of  the  soul  in  a  condition  to  execute  her  orders.  Had 
that  incomparable  person,  whom  I  last  quoted,  been  a 
little  more  indulgent  to  himself  in  this  point,  the 
world  might  probably  have  enjoyed  him  much  longer ; 

20  whereas  through  too  great  an  application  to  his  studies 
in  his  youth,  he  contracted  that  ill  habit  of  body, 
which,  after  a  tedious  sickness,  carried  him  off  in  the 
fortieth  year  of  his  age ;  and  the  whole  history  we 
have  of  his  life  till  that  time  is  but  one  continued 

25  account  of  the  behavior  of  a  noble  soul  struggling 
under  innumerable  pains  and  distempers. 


XIl]  SIM    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  69 

For  my  own  part  I  intend  to  hunt  twice  a  week 
during  my  stay  with  Sir  Eoger;  and  shall  prescribe 
the  moderate  use  of  this  exercise  to  all  my  country 
friends,  as  the  best  kind  of  physic  for  mending  a  bad 
constitution,  and  preserving  a  good  one. 

I  cannot  do  this  better,  than  in  the  following  lines 
out  of  Mr.  Dryden:  — 

The  first  physicians  by  debauch  were  made  ; 
Excess  began,  and  sloth  sustained  the  trade. 
By  chase  our  long-lived  fathers  earned  their  food ; 
Toil  strung  the  nerves,  and  purified  the  blood ; 
But  we  their  sons,  a  pamper'd  race  of  men. 
Are  dwindled  down  to  threescore  years  and  ten. 
Better  to  hunt  in  fields  for  health  unbought 
Than  fee  the  doctor  for  a  nauseous  draught. 
The  wise  for  cure  on  exercise  depend : 
God  never  made  His  work  for  man  to  mend. 


XIL     THE   COVEELEY   WITCH. ° 

There  are  some  opinions  in  which  a  man  should 
stand  neuter,  without  engaging  his  assent  tc  one  side 
or  the  other.  Such  a  hovering  faith  as  this,  which  20 
refuses  to  settle  upon  any  determination,  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  a  mind  that  is  careful  to  avoid  errors  and 
prepossessions.     When  the  arguments  press  equally 


70  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [xil 

on  both  sides  in  matters  that  are  indifferent  to  us, 
the  safest  method  is  to  give  up  ourselves  to 
neither. 

It  is  with  this  temper  of  mind  that  I  consider  the 

5  subject  of  witchcraft.  °  When  I  hear  the  relations 
that  are  made  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  not  only 
from  Norway  and  Lapland,  from  the  East  and  West 
Indies,  but  from  every  particular  nation  in  Europe, 
I  cannot  forbear  thinking  that  there  is  such  an  inter- 

10  course  and  commerce  with  evil  spirits  as  that  which 
we  express  by  the  name  of  witchcraft.  But  when  I 
consider  that  the  ignorant  and  credulous  parts  of  the 
world  abound  most  in  these  relations,  and  that  the 
persons  among  us  who  are  supposed  to  engage  in  such 

15  an  infernal  commerce  are  people  of  a  weak  under- 
standing and  a  crazed  imagination,  and  at  the  same 
time  reflect  upon  the  many  impostures  and  delusions 
of  this  nature  that  have  been  detected  in  all  ages,  I 
endeavor  to  suspend  my  belief  till  I  hear  more  certain 

20  accounts  than  any  which  have  yet  come  to  my  knowl- 
edge. In  short,  when  I  consider  the  question,  whether 
there  are  such  persons  in  the  world  as  those  we  call 
witches,  my  mind  is  divided  between  the  two  oppo- 
site opinions :  or  rather  (to  speak  my  thoughts  freely) 

25  I  believe  in  general  that  there  is,  and  has  been,  such 


XIl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  71 

a  thing  as  witchcraft;  but  at  the  same  time  can  give 
no  credit  to  any  particular  instance  of  it. 

I  am  engaged  in  this  speculation  by  some  occur- 
rences that  I  met  with  yesterday,  which  I  shall  give 
my  reader  an  account  of  at  large.  As  I  was  walking  5 
with  my  friend  Sir  Eoger  by  the  side  of  one  of  his 
woods,  an  old  woman  applied  herself  to  me  for  my 
charity.  Her  dress  and  figure  put  me  in  mind  of  the 
following  description  in  Otway:  — 

In  a  close  lane  as  I  pursued  my  journey,  lo 

I  spied  a  wrinkled  hag,  with  age  grown  double. 
Picking  dry  sticks,  and  mumbling  to  herself. 
Her  eyes  with  scalding  rheum  were  gall'd  and  red ; 
Cold  palsy  shook  her  head  ;  her  hands  seem'd  withered  ; 
And  on  her  crooked  shoulders  had  she  wrapp'd  15 

The  tatter' d  remnants  of  an  old  striped  hanging, 
Which  served  to  keep  her  carcase  from  the  cold : 
So  there  was  nothing  of  a  piece  about  her. 
Her  lower  weeds  were  all  o'er  coarsely  patch'd 
With  diff' rent  color'd  rags,  black,  red,  white,  yellow,  20 

And  seem'd  to  speak  variety  of  wretchedness. 

As  I  was  musing  on  this  description,  and  comparing 
it  with  the  object  before  me,  the  Knight  told  me  that 
this  very  old  woman  had  the  reputation  of  a  witch  all 
over  the  country,  that  her  lips  were  observed  to  be  25 
always  in  motion,  and  that  there  was  not  a  switch 


72  SIR    ROGER    BE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  [xil 

about  her  house  which  her  neighbors  did  not  believe 
had  carried  her  several  hundreds  of  miles.  If  she 
chanced  to  stumble,  they  always  found  sticks  or 
straws  that  lay  in  the  figure  of  a  cross  before  her.     If 

5  she  made  any  mistake  at  church,  and  cried  Ameyi  in 
a  wrong  place,  they  never  failed  to  conclude  that  she 
was  saying  her  prayers  backwards.  There  was  not  a 
maid  in  the  parish  that  would  take  a  pin  of  her, 
though  she  would  offer  a  bag  of  money  with  it.     She 

10  goes  by  the  name  of  Moll  White,  and  has  made  the 
country  ring  with  several  imaginary  exploits  which 
are  palmed  upon  her.  If  the  dairy  maid  does  not 
make  her  butter  come  so  soon  as  she  should  have  it, 
Moll  White  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  churn.     If  a  horse 

15  sweats  in  the  stable,  Moll  White  has  been  upon  his 
back.  If  a  hare  makes  an  unexpected  escape  from  the 
hounds,  the  huntsman  curses  Moll  White.  "Nay," 
says  Sir  Koger,  "  I  have  known  the  master  of  the  pack, 
upon  such  an  occasion,  send  one  of  his  servants  to  see 

20  if  Moll  White  had  been  out  that  morning." 

This  account  raised  my  curiosity  so  far,  that  I 
begged  my  friend  Sir  Eoger  to  go  with  me  into  her 
hovel,  which  stood  in  a  solitary  corner  under  the  side 
of   the   wood.     Upon   our   first   entering    Sir   Eoger 

25  winked  to  me,  and  pointed  at  something  that  stood 


XIl]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  73 

behind  the  door,  which,  upon  looking  that  way,  I 
found  to  be  an  old  broomstaff.  At  the  same  time  he 
whispered  me  in  the  ear  to  take  notice  of  a  tabby  cat 
that  sat  in  the  chimney-corner,  which,  as  the  old 
Knight  told  me,  lay  under  as  bad  a  report  as  Moll  5 
White  herself;  for  besides  that  Moll  is  said  often  to 
accompany  her  in  the  same  shape,  the  cat  is  reported 
to  have  spoken  twice  or  thrice  in  her  life,  and  to  have 
played  several  pranks  above  the  capacity  of  an  ordinary 
cat.  10 

I  was  secretly  concerned  to  see  human  nature  in  so 
much  wretchedness  and  disgrace,  but  at  the  same  time 
could  not  forbear  smiling  to  hear  Sir  Eoger,  who  is 
a  little  puzzled  about  the  old  woman,  advising  her  as 
a  Justice  of  Peace  to  avoid  all  communication  with  the  15 
devil,  and  never  to  hurt  any  of  her  neighbors'  cattle. 
We  concluded  our  visit  with  a  bounty,  which  was  very 
acceptable. 

In  our  return  home,  Sir  Eoger  told  me  that  old  Moll 
had  been  often  brought  before  him  for  making  chil-  20 
dren  spit  pins,  and  giving  maids  the  nightmare;  and 
that  the  country  people  would  be  tossing  her  into  a 
pond  and  trying  experiments  with  her  every  day,  if 
it  was  not  for  him  and  his  chaplain. 

I  have  since  found  upon  inquiry  that  Sir  Eoger  was  25 


74  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS        [xill 

several  times  staggered  with  the  reports  that  had  been- 
brought  him  concerning  this  old  woman,  and  would 
frequently  have  bound  her  over  to  the  county  sessions 
had  not  his  chaplain,  with  much  ado,  persuaded  him  to 

5    the  contrary. 

I  have  been  the  more  particular  in  this  account, 
because  I  hear  there  is  scarce  a  village  in  England 
that  has  not  a  Moll  White  in  it.  When  an  old  woman 
begins  to  dote,  and  grow  chargeable  to  a  parish,  she 

10  is  generally  turned  into  a  witch,  and  fills  the  whole 
country  with  extravagant  fancies,  imaginary  distem- 
pers, and  terrifying  dreams.  In  the  meantime,  the 
poor  wretch  that  is  the  innocent  occasion  of  so  many 
evils  begins  to  be  frighted  at  herself,  and  sometimes 

15  confesses  secret  commerce  and  familiarities  that  her 
imagination  forms  in  a  delirious  old  age.  This  fre- 
quently cuts  off  charity  from  the  greatest  objects  of 
compassion,  and  inspires  people  with  a  malevolence 
towards  those  poor  decrepit  parts  of  our  species,  in 

20  whom  human  nature  is  defaced  by  infirmity  and  dotage. 

XIII.     SIR   ROGER'S  DISCOURSE   ON  LOVE. 

This  agreeable  seat  is  surrounded  with  so  many 
pleasing  walks  which  are  struck  out  of  a  wood  in  the 
midst  of  which  the  house  stands,  that  one  can  hardly 


XIIl]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  75 

ever  be  weary  of  rambling  from  one  labyrinth  of  de- 
light to  another.  To  one  used  to  live  in  a  city  the 
charms  of  the  country  are  so  exquisite,  that  the  mind 
is  lost  in  a  certain  transport  which  raises  us  above  ordi- 
nary life,  and  is  yet  not  strong  enough  to  be  incon-  5 
sistent  with  tranquillity.  This  state  of  mind  was  I  in, 
ravished  with  the  murmur  of  waters,  the  whisper  of 
breezes,  the  singing  of  birds;  and  whether  I  looked 
up  to  the  heavens,  down  on  the  earth,  or  turned  to 
the  prospects  around  me,  still  struck  with  new  sense  lo 
of  pleasure ;  when  I  found  by  the  voice  of  my  friend, 
who  walked  by  me,  that  we  had  insensibly  strolled 
into  the  grove  sacred  to  the  Widow.  "This  woman," 
says  he,  "  is  of  all  others  the  most  unintelligible ;  she 
either  designs  to  marry,  or  she  does  not.  What  is  15 
the  most  perplexing  of  all  is,  that  she  doth  not  either 
say  to  her  lovers  she  has  any  resolution  against  that 
condition  of  life  in  general,  or  that  she  banishes  them ; 
but  conscious  of  her  own  merit,  she  permits  their  ad- 
dresses without  fear  of  any  ill  consequence,  or  want  20 
of  respect,  from  their  rage  or  despair.  She  has  that 
in  her  aspect  against  which  it  is  impossible  to  offend. 
A  man  whose  thoughts  are  constantly  bent  upon  so 
agreeable  an  object,  must  be  excused  if  the  ordinary 
occurrences  in  conversation  are  below  his  attention.  25 


76  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS        [xill 

I  call  her  indeed  perverse,  but,  alas !  why  do  I  call  her 
so?  Because  her  superior  merit  is  such,  that  I  cannot 
approach  her  without  awe,  that  my  heart  is  checked 
by  too  much  esteem :  I  am  angry  that  her  charms  are 

5  not  more  accessible,  that  I  am  more  inclined  to  wor- 
ship than  salute  her:  how  often  have  I  wished  her 
unhappy  that  I  might  have  an  opportunity  of  serving 
her?  and  how  often  troubled  in  that  very  imagination, 
at  giving  her  the  pain  of  being  obliged?    Well,  I  have 

10  led  a  miserable  life  in  secret  upon  her  account;  but 
fancy  she  would  have  condescended  to  have  some  re- 
gard for  me,  if  it  had  not  been  for  that  watchful 
animal  her  confidant. 

"Of  all  persons  under  the  sun,"  continued  he,  call- 

15  ing  me  by  my  name,  "  be  sure  to  set  a  mark  upon  con- 
fidants ;  they  are  of  all  people  the  most  impertinent. 
What  is  most  pleasant  to  observe  in  them  is  that  they 
assume  to  themselves  the  merit  of  the  persons  whom 
they  have  in  their  custody.     Orestilla  is  a  great  for- 

20  tune,  and  in  wonderful  danger  of  surprises,  therefore 
full  of  suspicions  of  the  least  indifferent  thing,  par- 
ticularly careful  of  new  acquaintance,  and  of  growing 
too  familiar  with  the  old.  Themista,  her  favorite 
woman,  is  every  whit  as  careful  of  whom  she  speaks 

25  to,  and  what  she  says.     Let  the  ward  be  a  beauty,  her 


XIIl]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  77 

confidant  shall  treat  you  with  an  air  of  distance;  let 
her  be  a  fortune,  and  she  assumes  the  suspicious  be- 
havior of  her  friend  and  patroness.  Thus  it  is  that 
very  many  of  our  unmarried  women  of  distinction  are 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  married,  except  the  con-  5 
sideration  of  different  sexes.  They  are  directly  under 
the  conduct  of  their  whisperer;  and  think  they  are  in 
a  state  of  freedom,  while  they  can  prate  with  one  of 
these  attendants  of  all  men  in  general,  and  still  avoid 
the  man  they  most  like.  You  do  not  see  one  heiress  lo 
in  an  hundred  whose  fate  does  not  turn  upon  this  cir- 
cumstance of  choosing  a  confidant.  Thus  it  is  that 
the  lady  is  addressed  to,  presented  and  flattered,  only 
by  proxy,  in  her  woman.  In  my  case,  how  is  it 
possible  that  —  "  15 

Sir  Eoger  was  proceeding  in  his  harangue,  when  we 
heard  the  voice  of  one  speaking  very  importunately, 
and  repeating  these  words,  "What,  not  one  smile?" 
We  followed  the  sound  till  we  came  to  a  close  thicket, 
on  the  other  side  of  which  we  saw  a  young  woman  20 
sitting  as  it  were  in  a  personated  sullenness  just  over 
a  transparent  fountain.  Opposite  to  her  stood  Mr. 
William,  Sir  Eoger's  master  of  the  game.  The  Knight 
whispered  me,  "  Hist,  these  are  lovers."  The  huntsman 
looking  earnestly  at  the  shadow  of  the  young  maiden  in  25 


78  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS        [xin 

the  stream,  "  0  thou  dear  picture,  if  thou  couldst  re- 
main there  in  the  absence  of  that  fair  creature  whom 
you  represent  in  the  water,  how  willingly  could  I  stand 
here  satisfied  forever,  without  troubling  my  dear  Betty 

5  herself  with  any  mention  of  her  unfortunate  William, 
whom  she  is  angry  with:  but  alas!  when  she  pleases 
to  be  gone,  thou  wilt  also  vanish  —  yet  let  me  talk  to 
thee  while  thou  dost  stay.  Tell  my  dearest  Betty 
thou  dost  not  more  depend  upon  her  than  does  her 

10  William :  her  absence  will  make  away  with  me  as  well 
as  thee.  If  she  offers  to  remove  thee,  1^11  jump  into 
these  waves  to  lay  hold  on  thee ;  herself,  her  own  dear 
person,  I  must  never  embrace  again.  —  Still  do  you 
hear  me  without  one  smile  —  it  is  too  much  to  bear.'' 

15  He  had  no  sooner  spoke  these  words  but  he  made  an 
offer  of  throwing  himself  into  the  water;  at  which  his 
mistress  started  up,  and  at  the  next  instant  he  jumped 
across  the  fountain  and  met  her  in  an  embrace.  She, 
half  recovering   from   her  fright,    said  in  the  most 

20  charming  voice  imaginable  and  with  a  tone  of  com- 
plaint, "  I  thought  how  well  you  would  drown  yourself. 
N'o,  no,  you  won't  drown  yourself  till  you  have  taken 
your  leave  of  Susan  Holliday."  The  huntsman,  with 
a  tenderness  that  spoke  the  most  passionate  love,  and 

25  with  his  cheek  close  to  hers,  whispered  the  softest 


XIll]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  79 

VOWS  of  fidelity  in  her  ear,  and  cried,  "Don't,  my 
dear,  believe  a  word  Kate  Willow  says;  she  is  spite- 
ful and  makes  stories,  because  she  loves  to  hear  me 
talk  to  herself  for  your  sake." 

"Look  you  there,"  quoth  Sir  Eoger,  "do  you  see    5 
there,  all  mischief  comes  from  confidants!      But  let 
us  not  interrupt  them;  the  maid  is  honest,  and  the 
man  dares  not  be  otherwise,  for  he  knows  I  loved  her 
father;  I  will  interpose  in  this  matter,  and  hasten 
the  wedding.     Kate  Willow  is  a  witty,  mischievous  lo 
wench  in  the  neighborhood,  who  was  a  beaut}^;  and 
makes  me  hope  I  shall  see  the  perverse  Widow  in  her 
condition.     She  was  so  flippant  with  her  answers  to 
all  the  honest  fellows  that  came  near  her,  and  so  very 
vain  of  her  beauty,  that  she  has  valued  herself  upon  15 
her  charms  till  they  are  ceased.     She  therefore  now 
makes  it  her  business  to  prevent  other  young  women 
from  being  more  discreet  than  she  was  herself;  how- 
ever, the  saucy  thing  said  the  other  day  well  enough, 
*Sir  Eoger  and  I  must  make  a  match,  for  we  are  both  20 
despised  by  those  we  loved.'     The  hussy  has  a  great 
deal  of  power  wherever  she  comes,  and  has  her  share 
of  cunning. 

"  However,  when  I  reflect  upon  this  woman,  I  do 
not  know  whether  in  the  main  I  am  the  worse  for  25 


80  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS        [xill 

having  loved  her;  whenever  she  is  recalled  to  my 

^  imagination  my  youth  returns,  and  I  feel  a  forgotten 
warmth  in  my  veins.  This  affliction  in  my  life  has 
streaked  all  my  conduct  with  a  softness  of  which  I 

5  should  otherwise  have  been  incapable.  It  is,  perhaps, 
to  this  dear  image  in  my  heart  owing,  that  I  am  apt 
to  relent,  that  I  easily  forgive,  and  that  many  desir- 
able things  are  grown  into  my  temper,  which  I  should 
not  have  arrived  at  by  better  motives  than  the  thought 

10  of  being  one  day  hers.  I  am  pretty  well  satisfied 
such  a  passion  as  I  have  had  is  never  well  cured ;  and 
between  you  and  me,  I  am  often  apt  to  imagine  it  has 
had  some  whimsical  effect  upon  my  brain.  For  I  fre- 
quently find,  that  in  my  most  serious  discourse  I  let 

^5  fall  some  comical  familiarity  of  speech  or  odd  phrase 
that  makes  the  company  laugh;  however,  I  cannot 
but  allow  she  is  a  most  excellent  woman.  When  she 
is  in  the  country,  I  warrant  she  does  not  run  into 
dairies,  but  reads  upon  the  nature  of  plants;  but  has 

20  a  glass  hive,  and  comes  into  the  garden  out  of  books 
to  see  them  work,  and  observe  the  policies  of  their 
commonwealth.  She  understands  everything.  I'd  give 
ten  pounds  to  hear  her  argue  with  my  friend  Sir  Andrew 
Freeport  about  trade.     'No,  no,  for  all  she  looks  so 

25  innocent  as  it  were,  take  my  word  for  it  she  is  no  fool.'' 


XI v]         SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  81 

XIV.     TOWN  AND   COUNTRY  MANNERS. 

The  first  and  most  obvious  reflections  whicli  arise 
in  a  man  who  changes  the  city  for  the  country,  are 
upon  the  different  manners  of  the  people  whom  he 
meets  with  in  those  two  different  scenes  of  life.  By 
manners  I  do  not  mean  morals,  but  behavior  and  good-  5 
breeding  as  they  show  themselves  in  the  town  and  in 
the  country. 

And  here,  in  the  first  place,  I  must  observe  a  very 
great  revolution  that  has  happened  in  this  article  of 
good-breeding.  Several  obliging  deferences,  conde-  10 
scensions,  and  submissions,  with  many  outward  forms 
and  ceremonies  that  accompany  them,  were  first  of  all 
brought  up  among  the  politer  part  of  mankind,  who 
lived  in  courts  and  cities,  and  distinguished  themselves 
from  the  rustic  part  of  the  species  (who  on  all  occa-  15 
sions  acted  bluntly  and  naturally)  by  such  a  mutual 
complaisance  and  intercourse  of  civilities.  These 
forms  of  conversation  by  degrees  multiplied  and  grew 
troublesome;  the  modish  world  found  too  gieat  a  con- 
straint in  them,  and  have  therefore  thrown  most  of  20 
them  aside.  Conversation,  like  the  Eomish  religion, 
was  so  encumbered  with  show  and  ceremony,  that  it 
stood  in  need  of  a  reformation  to  retrench  its  super- 


82  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS         [xiv 

fluities,  and  restore  it  to  its  natural  good  sense  and 
beauty.  At  present  therefore  an  unconstrained  car- 
riage, and  a  certain  openness  of  behavior,  are  the 
height  of   good-breeding.     The  fashionable  world   is 

5  grown  free  and  easy ;  our  manners  sit  more  loose  upon 
us.  Nothing  is  so  modish  as  an  agreeable  negligence. 
In  a  word,  good-breeding  shows  itself  most,  where  to 
an  ordinary  eye  it  appears  the  least. 

If  after  this  we  look  on  the  people  of  mode  in  the 

10  country,  we  find  in  them  the  manners  of  the  last  age. 
They  have  no  sooner  fetched  themselves  up  to  the 
fashion  of  the  polite  world,  but  the  town  has  dropped 
them,  and  are  nearer  to  the  first  state  of  nature  than 
to  those  refinements  which  formerly  reigned   in  the 

15  court,  and  still  prevail  in  the  country.  One  may  now 
know  a  man  that  never  conversed  in  the  world,  by  his 
excess  of  good-breeding.  A  polite  country  squire  shall 
make  you  as  many  bows  in  half  an  hour  as  would  serve 
a  courtier  for  a  week.     There  is  infinitely  more  to  do 

20  about  place  and  precedency  in  a  meeting  of  justices' 
wives  than  in  an  assembly  of  duchesses. 

This  rural  politeness  is  very  troublesome  to  a  man 
of  my  temper,  who  generally  take  the  chair  that  is 
next  me,  and  walk  first  or  last,  in  the  front  or  in  the 

25  rear,  as  chance  directs.     I  have  known  my  friend  Sir 


XI v]         SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  83 

Eoger's  dinner  almost  cold  before  the  company  could 
adjust  the  ceremonial,  and  be  prevailed  upon  to  sit 
down ;  and  have  heartily  pitied  my  old  friend,  when 
I  have  seen  him  forced  to  pick  and  cull  his  guests,  as 
they  sat  at  the  several  parts  of  his  table,  that  he  5 
might  drink  their  healths  according  to  their  respective 
ranks  and  qualities.  Honest  Will  Wimble,  who  I 
should  have  thought  had  been  altogether  uninfected 
with  ceremony,  gives  me  abundance  of  trouble  in  this 
particular.  Though  he  has  been  fishing  all  the  morn-  lo 
ing,  he  will  not  help  himself  at  dinner  till  I  am  served. 
When  we  are  going  out  of  the  hall,  he  runs  behind 
me ;  and  last  night,  as  we  were  walking  in  the  fields, 
stopped  short  at  a  stile  till  I  came  up  to  it,  and  upon 
my  making  signs  to  him  to  get  over,  told  me,  with  a  15 
serious  smile,  that  sure  I  believed  they  had  no  man- 
ners in  the  country. 

There  has  happened  another  revolution  in  the  point 
of  good-breeding,  which  relates  to  the  conversation 
among  men  of  mode,  and  which  I  cannot  but  look  20 
upon  as  v^ry  extraordinary.  It  was  certainly  one  of 
the  first  distinctions  of  a  well-bred  man,  to  express 
everything  that  had  the  most  remote  appearance  of  y 
being  obscene,  in  modest  terms  and  distant  phrases; 
whilst  the  clown,  who  had  no  such  delicacy  of  con-  25 


84  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS         [xiv 

ception  and  expression,  clothed  his  ideas  in  those 
plain,  homely  terms  that  are  the  most  obvious  and 
natural.  This  kind  of  good  manners  was  perhaps 
carried  to  an  excess,  so  as  to  make  conversation  too 

5  stiff,  formal,  and  precise :  for  which  reason  (as  hy- 
pocrisy in  one  age  is  generally  succeeded  by  atheism 
in  another)  conversation  is  in  a  great  measure  relapsed 
into  the  first  extreme ;  so  that  at  present  several  of 
our  men  of  the  town,  and  particularly  those  who  have 

10  been  polished  in  France,  make  use  of  the  most  coarse, 
uncivilized  words  in  our  language,  and  utter  them- 
selves often  in  such  a  manner  as  a  clown  would  blush 
to  hear. 

This  infamous  piece  of  good-breeding,  which  reigns 

15  among  the  coxcombs  of  the  town,  has  not  yet  made 
its  way  into  the  country ;  and  as  it  is  impossible  for 
such  an  irrational  way  of  conversation  to  last  long 
among  a  people  that  make  any  profession  of  religion, 
or   show  of  modesty,  if  the  country  gentlemen  get 

20  into  it  they  will  certainly  be  left  in  the  lurch.  Their 
good-breeding  will  come  too  late  to  them,  and  they 
will  be  thought  a  parcel  of  lewd  clowns,  while  they 
fancy  themselves  talking  together  like  men  of  wit 
and  pleasure. 

25       As  the  two  points  of  good-breeding,  which  I  have 


XV]  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  85 

hitherto  insisted  upon,  regard  behavior  and  conver- 
sation, there  is  a  third  which  turns  upon  dress.  In 
this,  too,  the  country  are  very  much  behindhand. 
The  rural  beaus  are  not  yet  got  out  of  the  fashion 
that  took  place  at  the  time  of  the  Eevolution,  but  5 
ride  about  the  country  in  red  coats  and  laced  hats, 
while  the  women  in  many  parts  are  still  trying 
to  outvie  one  another  in  the  height  of  their  head- 
dresses.° 

But  a  friend  of  mine,  who  is  now  upon  the  western  lo 
circuit,  having  promised  to  give  me  an  account  of  the 
several  modes  and  fashions  that  prevail  in  the  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  nation  through  which  he  passes,  I 
shall  defer  the  enlarging  upon  this  last  topic  till  I 
have  received  a  letter  from  him,  which  I  expect  every  15 
post. 

XV.     SIR  ROGER   AT  THE  ASSIZES. 

A  man's  first  care  should  be  to  avoid  the  reproaches 
of  his  own  heart  j  his  next  to  escape  the  censures  of 
the  world.  If  the  last  interferes  with  the  former,  it 
ought  to  be  entirely  neglected;  but  otherwise  there  20 
cannot  be  a  greater  satisfaction  to  an  honest  mind 
than  to  see  those  approbations  which  it  gives  itself 
seconded  by  the  applauses  of  the  public.  A  man  is 
more  sure  of  his  conduct  when  the  verdict  which  he 


S6  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS  [xv 

passes  upon  his  own  behavior  is  thus  warranted  and 
confirmed  by  the  opinion  of  all  that  know  him. 

My  worthy  friend  Sir  Eoger  is  one  of  those  who  is 
not  only  at  peace  within  himself,  but  beloved  and 

5  esteemed  by  all  about  him.  He  receives  a  suitable 
tribute  for  his  universal  benevolence  to  mankind,  in 
the  returns  of  affection  and  good-will  which  are  paid 
him  by  every  one  that  lives  within  his  neighborhood. 
I  lately  met  with  two  or  three  odd  instances  of  that 

10  general  respect  which  is  shown  to  the  good  old  Knight. 
He  would  needs  carry  Will  Wimble  and  myself  with 
him  to  the  county  assizes.  As  we  were  upon  the  road, 
Will  Wimble  joined  a  couple  of  plain  men  who  rid 
before  us,  and  conversed  with  them  for  some  time; 

15  during  which  my  friend  Sir  Eoger  acquainted  me  with 
their  characters. 

"The  first  of  them,"  says  he,  "that  has  a  spaniel 
by  his  side,  is  a  yeoman  of  about  an  hundred  pounds 
a  year,  an  honest  man.     He  is  just  within  the  Game- 

20  Act,  and  qualified"  to  kill  an  hare  or  a  pheasant.  He 
knocks  down  a  dinner  with  his  gun  twice  or  thrice  a 
week;  and  by  that  means  lives  much  cheaper  than 
those  who  have  not  so  good  an  estate  as  himself.  He 
would  be  a  good  neighbor  if  he  did  not  destroy  so 

25  many  partridges ;  in  short,  he  is  a  very  sensible  man, 


xv]  SIR    nOGER   DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  87 

shoots  flying,  and  has  been  several  times  foreman  of 
the  petty  jury. 

"The  other  that  rides  along  with  him  is  Tom 
Touchy,  a  fellow  famous  for  taking  the  law  of  every- 
body. There  is  not  one  in  the  town  where  he  lives  5 
that  he  has  not  sued  at  a  quarter  sessions.  The  rogue 
had  once  the  impudence  to  go  to  law  with  the  Widow. 
His  head  is  full  of  costs,  damages,  and  ejectments ;  he 
plagued  a  couple  of  honest  gentlemen  so  long  for  a 
trespass  in  breaking  one  of  his  hedges,  till  he  was  lo 
forced  to  sell  the  ground  it  enclosed  to  defray  the 
charges  of  the  prosecution.  His  father  left  him  four- 
score pounds  a  year,  but  he  has  cast°  and  been  cast  so 
often,  that  he  is  not  now  worth  thirty.  I  suppose  he 
is  going  upon  the  old  business  of  the  willow-tree. "°       ^5 

As  Sir  Koger  was  giving  me  this  account  of  Tom 
Touchy,  Will  Wimble  and  his  two  companions  stopped 
short  till  we  came  up  to  them.  After  having  paid 
their  respects  to  Sir  Eoger,  Will  told  him  that  Mr. 
Touchy  and  he  must  appeal  to  him  upon  a  dispute  20 
that  arose  between  them.  Will,  it  seems,  had  been 
giving  his  fellow-traveller  an  account  of  his  angling 
one  day  in  such  a  hole ;  when  Tom  Touchy,  instead  of 
hearing  out  his  story,  told  him  that  Mr.  Such-an-one, 
if  he  pleased,  might  take  the  law  of  him  for  fishing  in  25 


S8  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  [xv 

that  part  of  the  river.  My  friend  Sir  Eoger  heard 
them  both,  upon  a  round  trot ;  and,  after  having  paused 
some  time,  told  them,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  would 
not  give  his  judgment  rashly,  that  much  might  be  said 

5  on  both  sides.  They  were  neither  of  them  dissatisfied 
with  the  Knight's  determination,  because  neither  of 
them  found  himself  in  the  wrong  by  it.  Upon  which 
we  made  the  best  of  our  way  to  the  assizes. 

The  court  was  sat  before  Sir  Eoger  came ;  but  not- 

10  withstanding  all  the  justices  had  taken  their  places 
upon  the  bench,  they  made  room  for  the  old  Knight 
at  the  head  of  them;  who,  for  his  reputation  in  the 
country,  took  occasion  to  whisper  in  the  judge's  ear, 
that  he  was  glad  his  lordship  had  met  with  so  much 

15  good  weather  in  his  circuit.  I  was  listening  to  the 
proceeding  of  the  court  with  much  attention,  and  in- 
finitely pleased  with  that  great  appearance  and  solem- 
nity which  so  properly  accompanies  such  a  public 
administration  of  our  laws;   when,   after   about   an 

20  hour's  sitting,  I  observed,  to  my  great  surprise,  in 
the  midst  of  a  trial,  that  my  friend  Sir  Eoger  was 
getting  up  to  speak.  I  was  in  some  pain  for  him,  till 
I  found  he  had  acquitted  himself  of  two  or  three 
sentences,  with  a  look  of  much  business  and  great 

25  intrepidity. 


XV]  sin    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  89 

Upon  liis  first  rising  the  court  was  hushed,  and  a 
general  whisper  ran  among  the  country  people  that  Sir 
Eoger  was  up.  The  speech  he  made  was  so  little  to 
the  purpose,  that  I  shall  not  trouble  my  readers  with 
an  account  of  it;  and  I  believe  was  not  so  much  de-  5 
signed  by  the  Knight  himself  to  inform  the  court,  as 
to  give  him  a  figure  in  my  eye^  and  keep  up  his  credit 
in  the  country. 

I  was  highly  delighted,  when  the  court  rose,  to  see 
the  gentlemen  of  the  country  gathering  about  my  old  lo 
friend,  and  striving  who  should  compliment  him  most; 
at  the  same  time  that  the  ordinary  people  gazed  upon 
him  at  a  distance,  not  a  little  admiring  his  courage, 
that  was  not  afraid  to  speak  to  the  judge. 

In  our  return  home  we  met  with  a  very  odd  accident,  15 
which  I  cannot  forbear  relating,  because  it  shows  how 
desirous  all  who  know  Sir  Roger  are  of  giving  hii 
marks  of  their  esteem.  When  we  were  arrived  upon 
the  verge  of  his  estate,  we  stopped  at  a  little  inn  to 
rest  ourselves  and  our  horses.  The  man  of  the  house  20 
had,  it  seems,  been  formerly  a  servant  in  the  Knight's 
family ;  and,  to  do  honor  to  his  old  master,  had  some 
time  since,  unknown  to  Sir  Eoger,  put  him  up  in  a 
sign-post  before  the  door;  so  that  the  Knight's  Head 
had  hung  out  upon  the  road  about  a  week  before  he  25 


90  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  [xv 

himself  knew  anything  of  the  matter.  As  soon  as  Sir 
Roger  was  acquainted  with  it,  finding  that  his  ser- 
vant's indiscretion  proceeded  wholly  from  affection  and 
good-will,  he  only  told  him  that  he  had  made  him  too 

5  high  a  compliment;  and  when  the  fellow  seemed  to 
think  that  could  hardly  be,  added,  with  a  more  de- 
cisive look,  that  it  was  too  great  an  honor  for  any  man 
under  a  duke;  but  told  him  at  the  same  time  that  it 
might  be  altered  with  a  very  few  touches,  and  that  he 

10  himself  would  be  at  the  charge  of  it.  Accordingly 
they  got  a  painter,  by  the  Knight's  directions,  to  add 
a  pair  of  whiskers  to  the  face,  and  by  a  little  aggrava- 
tion of  the  features  to  change  it  into  the  Saracen's 
Head.°     I  should  not  have  known  this  story  had  not 

15  the  inn-keeper,  upon  Sir  Roger's  alighting,  told  him 
in  my  hearing,  that  his  honor's  head  was  brought  back 
last  night  with  the  alterations  that  he  had  ordered  to 
be  made  in  it.  Upon  this,  my  friend,  with  his  usual 
cheerfulness,  related  the  particulars  above  mentioned, 

20  and  ordered  the  head  to  be  brought  into  the  room.  I 
could  not  forbear  discovering  greater  expressions  of 
mirth  than  ordinary  upon  the  appearance  of  this  mon- 
strous face,  under  which,  notwithstanding  it  was  made 
to  frown  and  stare  in  a  most  extraordinary  manner,  I 

25  could  still  discover  a  distant  resemblance  of  my  old 


XVl]         SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  91 

friend.  Sir  Eoger,  upon  seeing  me  laugh,  desired  me 
to  tell  him  truly  if  I  thought  it  possible  for  people  to 
know  him  in  that  disguise.  I  at  first  kept  my  usual 
silence;  but  upon  the  Knight's  conjuring  me  to  tell 
him  whether  it  was  not  still  more  like  himself  than  a  5 
Saracen,  I  composed  my  countenance  in  the  best  man- 
ner I  could,  and  replied  that  much  might  he  said  on 
both  sides. 

These  several  adventures,  with  the  Knight's   be- 
havior in  them,  gave  me  as  pleasant  a  day  as  ever  I  lo 
met  with  in  any  of  my  travels. 

XVI.     SIR  ROGER  AND  PARTY  SPIRIT. 

My  worthy  friend  Sir  Eoger,  when  we  are  talking 
of  the  malice  of  parties,  very  frequently  tells  us  an 
accident  that  happened  to  him  when  he  was  a  school- 
boy, which  was  at  a  time  when  the  feuds  ran  high  be-  15 
tween  the  Eoundheads  and  Cavaliers.     This  worthy 
Knight,  being  then  but  a  stripling,  had  occasion  to 
inquire  which  was  the  way  to  St.  Anne's  Lane,  upon      ^ 
which  the  person  whom  he  spoke  to,  instead  of  answer- 
ing his  question,  called  him  a  young  Popish  cur,  and  20 
asked  him  who  had  made  Anne  a  saint!     The  boy, 
being  in  some  confusion,  inquired  of  the  next  he  met, 
which  was  the  way  to  Anne's  Lane ;  but  was  called  a 


92  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS         [xvi 

prick-eared  cur  for  his  pains,  and  instead  of  being 
shown  the  way,  was  told  that  she  had  been  a  saint 
before  he  was  born,  and  would  be  one  after  he  was 
hanged.      "Upon  this,"  says  Sir  Eoger,  "I  did  not 

5  think  fit  to  repeat  the  former  question,  but  going  into 
every  lane  of  the  neighborhood,  asked  what  they  called 
the  name  of  that  lane."  By  which  ingenious  artifice 
he  found  out  the  place  he  inquired  after,  without  giv- 
ing offence  to  any  party.     Sir  Eoger  generally  closes 

10  this  narrative  with  reflections  on  the  mischief  that 
parties  do  in  the  country ;  how  they  spoil  good  neigh- 
borhood, and  make  honest  gentlemen  hate  one  another ; 
besides  that  they  manifestly  tend  to  the  prejudice  of 
the  land-tax,  and  the  destruction  of  the  game. 

15  There  cannot  a  greater  judgment  befall  a  country 
than  such  a  dreadful  spirit  of  division  as  rends  a 
government  into  two  distinct  people,  and  makes  them 
greater  strangers  and  more  averse  to  one  another,  than 
if  they  were  actually  two  different  nations.    The  effects 

20  of  such  a  division  are  pernicious  to  the  last  degree,  not 
only  with  regard  to  those  advantages  which  they  give 
the  common  enemy,  but  to  those  private  evils  which 
they  produce  in  the  heart  of  almost  every  particular° 
person.      This   influence  is  very  fatal  both  to  men's 

25  morals  and  their  understandings ;  it  sinks  the  virtue 


XVl]         SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  93 

of  a  nation,  and  not  only  so,  but  destroys  even  common 
sense. 

A  furious  party  spirit,  when  it  rages  in  its  full 
violence,  exerts  itself  in  civil  war  and  bloodshed; 
and  when  it  is  under  its  greatest  restraints  naturally  5 
breaks  out  in  falsehood,  detraction,  calumny,  and  a 
partial  administration  of  justice.  In  a  word,  it  fills 
a  nation  with  spleen  and  rancor,  and  extinguishes  all 
the  seeds  of  good-nature,  compassion,  and  humanity. 

Plutarch°  says,  very  finely,  "  that  a  man  should  not  lo 
allow  himself  to  hate  even  his  enemies,  because,"  says 
he,  "if  you  indulge  this  passion  in  some  occasions,  it 
will  rise  of  itself  in  others ;  if  you  hate  your  enemies, 
you  will  contract  such  a  vicious  habit  of  mind,  as  by 
degrees  will  break  out  upon  those  who  are  your  friends,  15 
or  those  who  are  indifferent  to  you."  I  might  here 
observe  how  admirably  this  precept  of  morality  (which 
derives  the  malignity  of  hatred  from  the  passion  itself, 
and  not  from  its  object)  answers  to  that  great  rule° 
which  was  dictated  to  the  world  about  an  hundred  2*6  -■ 
years  before  this  philosopher  wrote ;  but  instead  of 
that,  I  shall  only  take  notice,  with  a  real  grief  of 
heart,  that  the  minds  of  many  good  men  among  us  ap- 
pear soured  with  party-principles,  and  alienated  from 
one  another  in  such  a  manner,  as  seems  to  me  alto-  25 


94  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS        [xvi 

getlier  inconsistent  with  the  dictates  either  of  reason 
or  religion.  Zeal  for  a  public  cause  is  apt  to  breed 
passions  in  the  hearts  of  virtuous  persons,  to  which 
the  regard  of  their  own  private  interest  would  never 

5    have  betrayed  them. 

If  this  party  spirit  has  so  ill  an  effect  on  our  morals, 
it  has  likewise  a  very  great  one  upon  our  judgments. 
We  often  hear  a  poor  insipid  paper  or  pamphlet  cried 
up,  and  sometimes  a  noble  piece  depreciated,  by  those 

10  who  are  of  a  different  principle  from  the  author.  One 
who  is  actuated  by  this  spirit  is  almost  under  an  in- 
capacity of  discerning  either  real  blemishes  or  beauties. 
A  man  of  merit  in  a  different  principle  is  like  an  object 
seen  in  two  different  mediums,  that  appears  crooked 

15  or  broken,  however  straight  and  entire  it  may  be  in 
itself.  For  this  reason  there  is  scarce  a  person  of  any 
figure  in  England  who  does  not  go  by  two  contrary 
characters,  as  opposite  to  one  another  as  light  and 
darkness.     Knowledge   and  learning  suffer  in  a  par- 

20  ticular  manner  from  this  strange  prejudice,  which  at 
present  prevails  amongst  all  ranks  and  degrees  in  the 
British  nation.  As  men  formerly  became  eminent  in 
learned  societies  by  their  parts  and  acquisitions,  they 
now  distinguish  themselves  by  the  warmth  and  vio- 

25  lence  with  which  they  espouse  their  respective  parties. 


XVl]         SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  95 

Books  are  valued  upon  the  like  considerations.  An 
abusive,  scurrilous  style  passes  for  satire,  and  a  dull 
scheme  of  party  notions  is  called  fine  writing. 

There  is  one  piece  of  sophistry  practised  by  both 
sides,   and   that  is  the  taking  any  scandalous  story,    5 
that  has  been  ever  whispered  or  invented  of  a  private 
man,  for  a  known  undoubted  truth,  and  raising  suit- 
able speculations  upon  it.     Calumnies  that  have  been 
never  proved,  or  have  been   often  refuted,   are   the 
ordinary  postulatums   of   these   infamous   scribblers,  10 
upon   which  they   proceed   as   upon    first   principles 
granted  by  all  men,  though  in  their  hearts  they  know 
they  are  false,  or  at  best  very  doubtful.     When  they 
have  laid  these  foundations  of  scurrility,  it  is  no  won- 
der that  their  superstructure  is  every  way  answerable  15 
to  them.     If  this  shameless  practice  of  the  present  age 
endures  much  longer,  praise  and  reproach  will  cease 
to  be  motives  of  action  in  good  men. 

There  are  certain  periods  of  time  in  all  govern- 
ments when  this  inhuman  spirit  prevails.  Italy  was  20 
long  torn  in  pieces  by  the  Guelphs  and  Ghibellines,° 
and  France  by  those  who  were  for  and  against  the 
League  :°  but  it  is  very  unhappy  for  a  man  to  be  born 
in  such  a  stormy  and  tempestuous  season.  It  is  the 
restless   ambition   of   artful   men  that  thus  breaks  a  25 


96  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS         [xvi 

people  into  factions,  and  draws  several  well-meaning 
persons  to  tlieir  interest  by  a  specious  concern  for 
their  country.  How  many  honest  minds  are  filled 
with  uncharitable  and  barbarous  notions,  out  of  their 

5  zeal  for  the  public  good?  What  cruelties  and  out- 
rages would  they  not  commit  against  men  of  an  ad- 
verse party,  whom  they  would  honor  and  esteem,  if, 
instead  of  considering  them  as  they  are  represented, 
they  knew  them  as  they  are  ?     Thus  are  persons  of 

10  the  greatest  probity  seduced  into  shameful  errors  and 
prejudices,  and  made  bad  men  even  by  that  noblest  of 
principles,  the  love  of  their  country.  I  cannot  here 
forbear  mentioning  the  famous  Spanish  proverb,  ^^  If 
there  were  neither  fools  nor  knaves  in  the  world,  all 

15  people  would  be  of  one  mind." 

For  my  own  part  I  could  heartily  wish  that  all 
honest  men  would  enter  into  an  association,  for  the 
support  of  one  another  against  the  endeavors  of  those 
whom  they  ought  to  look  upon  as  their  common  ene- 

20  mies,  whatsoever  side  they  may  belong  to.  Were 
there    such    an   honest   body    of  neutral   forces,   we 

*  should  never  see  the  worst  of  men  in  great  figures  of 
life,  because  they  are  useful  to  a  party ;  nor  the  best 
unregarded,  because  they  are  above  practising  those 

25  methods  which  would  be   grateful   to   their  faction. 


XVll]       SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  97 

We  should  then  single  every  criminal  out  of  the  herd, 
and  hunt  him  down,  however  formidable  and  over- 
grown he  might  appear;  on  the  contrary,  we  should 
shelter  distressed  innocence,  and  defend  virtue,  how- 
ever beset  with  contempt  or  ridicule,  envy  or  defama-  5 
tion.  In  short,  we  should  not  any  longer  regard  our 
fellow-subjects  as  Whigs  or  Tories,  but  should  make 
the  man  of  merit  our  friend,  and  the  villain  our 
enemy. 

XVII.     SIR  EOGER  AND  THE   GYPSIES. 

As  I  was  yesterday  riding  out  in  the  fields  with  my  lo 
friend  Sir  Eoger,  we  saw  at  a  little  distance  from  us  a 
troop  of  gypsies.     Upon  the  first  discovery  of  them, 
my  friend  was  in  some  doubt  whether  he  should  not 
exert  the  Justice  of  the  Peace  upon  such  a  band  of 
lawless  vagrants ;  but  not  having  his  clerk  with  him,  15 
who  is  a  necessary  counsellor  on  these  occasions,  and 
fearing  that  his  poultry  might  fare  the  worse  for  it, 
he  let  the  thought  drop:  but  at  the  same  time  gave 
me  a  particular  account  of  the  mischiefs  they  do  in  ,^, 
the  country,  in  stealing  people's  goods  and  spoiling  m 
their  servants.     "  If  a  stray  piece  of  linen  hangs  upon 
an  hedge,"  says  Sir  Eoger,  "they  are  sure  to  have  it; 
if  the  hog  loses  his  way  in  the  fields,  it  is  ten  to  one 


98  SIB    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS      [xvil 

but  he  becomes  their  prey;  our  geese  cannot  live  in 
peace  for  them ;  if  a  man  prosecutes  them  with  sever- 
ity, his  hen-roost  is  sure  to  pay  for  it :  they  generally 
straggle  into  these  parts  about  this  time  of  the  year ; 

5  and  set  the  heads  of  our  servant-maids  so  agog  for 
husbands,  that  we  do  not  expect  to  have  any  business 
done  as  it  should  be  whilst  they  are  in  the  country. 
I  have  an  honest  dairy-maid  who  crosses  their  hands 
with  a  piece  of  silver  every  summer,  and  never  fails 

10  being  promised  the  handsomest  young  fellow  in  the 
parish  for  her  pains.  Your  friend  the  butler  has  been 
fool  enough  to  be  seduced  by  them ;  and,  though  he  is 
sure  to  lose  a  knife,  a  fork,  or  a  spoon  every  time  his 
fortune  is  told  him,  generally  shuts  himself  up  in  the 

15  pantry  with  an  old  gypsy  for  above  half  an  hour  once 
in  a  twelvemonth.  Sweethearts  are  the  things  they 
live  upon,  which  they  bestow  very  plentifully  upon 
all  those  that  apply  themselves  to  them.  You  see 
now  and  then  some  handsome  young  jades   among 

20  them :  the  sluts  have  very  often  white  teeth  and  black 
eyes." 

Sir  Eoger,  observing  that  I  listened  with  great  at- 
tention to  his  account  of  a  people  who  were  so  entirely 
new  to  me,  told  me  that,  if  I  would,  they  should  tell  us 

25  our  fortunes.     As  I  was  very  well  pleased  with  the 


XVli]       SIR    nOGBR   DE    COVEELEY  PAPERS  99 

Knight's  proposal,  we  rid  up  and  communicated  our 
hands  to  them.     A  Cassandra°  of  the  crew,  after  hav- 
ing examined  my  lines  very  diligently,  told  me  that  I 
loved  a  pretty  maid  in  a  corner ;  that  I  was  a  good 
woman's  man;  with  some  other  particulars  which  I    5 
do  not  think  proper  to  relate.     My  friend  Sir  Eoger 
alighted  from  his  horse,  and  exposing  his  palm  to  two 
or  three  that  stood  by  him,  they  crumpled  it  into  all 
shapes,  and   diligently   scanned   every   wrinkle  that 
could  be  made  in  it;  when  one  of  them,  who  was  lo 
older  and  more  sunburnt  than  the  rest,  told  him  that 
he  had  a  widow  in  his  line  of  life :°  upon  which  the 
Knight  cried,  "  Go,  go,  you  are  an  idle  baggage ;  "  and 
at  the  same  time  smiled  upon  me.     The  gypsy,  find- 
ing he  was  not  displeased  in  his  heart,  told  him  after  15 
a  farther  inquiry  into  his  hand,  that  his  true  love  was 
constant,  and  that  she  should  dream  of  him  to-night : 
my  old  friend  cried  "  Pish  !  "  and  bid  her  go  on.     The 
gypsy  told  him  that  he  was  a  bachelor,  but  would  not   ^  , 
be  so  long ;  and  that  he  was  dearer  to  somebody  than  2^^;: 
he  thought.     The  Knight  still  repeated  she  was  an      4^ 
idle  baggage  and  bid  her  go  on.     "  Ah,  master,"  said 
the  gypsy,  "  that  roguish  leer  of  yours  makes  a  pretty 
woman's  heart  ache :  you  ha'n't  that  simper  about  the 
mouth  for  nothing ."    The  uncouth  gibberish  with  25 


100  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS       [xvil 

which  all  this  was  uttered,  like  the  darkness  of  an 
oracle,  made  us  the  more  attentive  to  it.  To  be  short, 
the  Knight  left  the  money  with  her  that  he  had 
crossed  her  hand  with,  and  got  up  again  on  his  horse. 

5  As  we  were  riding  away.  Sir  Eoger  told  me  that  he 
knew  several  sensible  people  who  believed  these  gyp- 
sies now  and  then  foretold  very  strange  things ;  and 
for  half  an  hour  together  appeared  more  jocund  than 
ordinary.     In  the  height  of  his  good  humor,  meeting 

10  a  common  beggar  upon  the  road  Avho  was  no  conjurer, 
as  he  went  to  relieve  him  he  found  his  pocket  was 
picked ;  that  being  a  kind  of  palmistry  at  which  this 
race  of  vermin  are  very  dexterous. 

I  might  here  entertain  my  reader  with  historical  re- 

15  marks  on  this  idle,  profligate  people,  who  infest  all  the 
countries  of  Europe,  and  live  in  the  midst  of  govern- 
ments in  a  kind  of  commonwealth  by  themselves.  But 
instead  of  entering  into  observations  of  this  nature,  I 
shall  fill  the  remaining  part  of  my  paper  with  a  story 

20  which  is  still  fresh  in  Holland,  and  was  printed  in 
one  of  our  monthly  accounts  about  twenty  years  ago. 
"  As  the  trekschuyt,  or  hackney-boat,  which  carries  pas- 
sengers from  Leyden  to  Amsterdam,  was  putting  off, 
a  boy  running  along  the  side  of  the  canal  desired  to 

25  be  taken  in :  which  the  master  of  the  boat  refused, 


XVIl]       SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  101 

because  the  lad  had  not  quite  money  enough  to  pay 
the  usual  fare.  An  eminent  merchant  being  pleased 
with  the  looks  of  the  boy,  and  secretly  touched  with 
compassion  towards  him,  paid  the  money  for  him,  and 
ordered  him  to  be  taken  on  board.  Upon  talking  with  5 
him  afterwards,  he  found  that  he  could  speak  readily 
in  three  or  four  languages,  and  learned  upon  farther 
examination  that  he  had  been  stolen  away  when  he 
was  a  child  by  a  gypsy,  and  had  rambled  ever  since 
with  a  gang  of  those  strollers  up  and  down  several  10 
parts  of  Europe.  It  happened  that  the  merchant, 
whose  heart  seems  to  have  inclined  towards  the  boy 
by  a  secret  kind  of  instinct,  had  himself  lost  a  child 
some  years  before.  The  parents,  after  a  long  search 
for  him,  gave  him  for  drowned  in  one  of  the  canals  15 
with  which  that  country  abounds  ;  and  the  mother 
was  so  afflicted  at  the  loss  of  a  fine  boy,  who  was  her 
only  son,  that  she  died  for  grief  of  it.  Upon  laying  to- 
gether all  particulars,  and  examining  the  several  moles 
and  marks  by  which  the  mother  used  to  describe  the  20 
child  when  he  was  first  missing,  the  boy  proved  to  be 
the  son  of  the  merchant,  whose  heart  had  so  unac- 
countably melted  at  the  sight  of  him.  The  lad  was 
very  well  pleased  to  find  a  father  who  was  so  rich, 
and  likely  to  leave  him  a  good  estate  :  the  father,  on  25 


102         SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS       [xvill 

the  other  hand,  was  not  a  little  delighted  to  see  a  son 
return  to  him,  whom  he  had  given  for  lost,  with  such 
a  strength  of  constitution,  sharpness  of  understand- 
ing, and  skill  in  languages/'     Here  the  printed  story 

5  leaves  off ;  but  if  I  may  give  credit  to  reports,  our 
linguist  having  received  such  extraordinary  rudiments 
towards  a  good  education,  was  afterwards  trained  up 
in  everything  that  becomes  a  gentleman  ;  wearing  olf 
by  little  and  little  all  the  vicious  habits  and  practices 

10  that  he  had  been  used  to  in  the  course  of  his  peregri- 
nations. Nay,  it  is  said  that  he  has  since  been  em- 
ployed in  foreign  courts  upon  national  business,  with 
great  reputation  to  himself  and  honor  to  those  who 
sent  him,  and  that  he  has  visited  several  countries  as 

15  a  public  minister,  in  which  he  formerly  wandered  as  a 

gypsy. 

XVIII.     WHY  THE  SPECTATOR  LEAVES  COVERLET 
HALL. 

It  is  usual  for  a  man  who  loves  country  sports  to 
preserve  the  game  in  his  own  grounds,  and  divert  him- 
self upon  those  that  belong  to  his  neighbor.  My  friend 
20  Sir  Eoger  generally  goes  two  or  three  miles  from  his 
house,  and  gets  into  the  frontiers  of  his  estate,  before 
he  beats  about  in  search  of  a  hare  or  partridge,  on 


XVIIl]      SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  103 

purpose  to  spare  his  own  fields,  where  he  is  always 
sure  of  finding  diversion  when  the  worst  comes  to  the 
worst.  By  this  means  the  breed  about  his  house  has 
time  to  increase  and  multiply;  besides  that  the  sport 
is  the  more  agreeable  where  the  game  is  the  harder  to  5 
come  at,  and  where  it  does  not  lie  so  thick  as  to  pro- 
duce any  perplexity  or  confusion  in  the  pursuit.  For 
these  reasons  the  country  gentleman,  like  the  fox, 
seldom  preys  near  his  own  home. 

In  the  same  manner  I  have  made  a  month's  excur-  lo 
sion  out  of  the  town,  which  is  the  great  field  of  game 
for  sportsmen  of  my  species,  to  try  my  fortune  in  the 
country,  where  I  have  started  several  subjects,  and 
hunted  them  down,  with  some  pleasure  to  myself,  and 
I  hope  to  others.  I  am  here  forced  to  use  a  great  deal  15 
of  diligence  before  I  can  spring  anything  to  my  mind; 
whereas  in  town,  whilst  I  am  following  one  character, 
it  is  ten  to  one  but  I  am  crossed  in  my  way  by  another, 
and  put  up  such  a  variety  of  odd  creatures  in  both 
sexes,  that  they  foil  the  scent  of  one  another,  and  20 
puzzle  the  chase.  My  greatest  difficulty  in  the  coun- 
try is  to  find  sport,  and,  in,  town,  to  choose  it.  In  the 
mean  time,  as  I  have  given  a  whole  month's  rest  to 
the  cities  of  London  and  Westminster,  I  promise  my- 
self abundance  of  new  game  upon  my  return  thither.     25 


104  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS     [xvill 

It  is  indeed  high  time  for  me  to  leave  the  country, 
since  I  find  the  whole  neighborhood  begin  to  grow 
very  inquisitive  after  my  name  and  character;  my 
love  of  solitude,  taciturnity,  and  particular  way  of 

5    life  having  raised  a  great  curiosity  in  all  these  parts. 

The  notions  which  have  been  framed  of  me  are 

various :  some  look  upon  me  as  very  proud,  some  as 

very  modest,  and   some  as  very  melancholy.     Will 

Wimble,  as  my  friend  the  butler  tells  me,  observing 

lo  me  very  much  alone,  and  extremely  silent  when  I  am 
in  company,  is  afraid  I  have  killed  a  man.  The  coun- 
try people  seem  to  suspect  me  for  a  conjurer;  and 
some  of  them,  hearing  of  the  visit  which  I  made  to 
Moll  White,  will  needs  have  it  that  Sir  Eoger  has 

15  brought  down  a  cunning  man  with  him,  to  cure  the 

old  woman,  and  free  the  country  from  her  charms. 

So  that  the  character  which  I  go  under  in  part  of  the 

neighborhood  is  what  they  here  call  a  "  White  Witch. "° 

A  Justice  of  Peace,  who  lives  about  five  milbs  off, 

20  and  is  not  of  Sir  Eoger's  party,  has,  it  seems,  said  twice 
or  thrice  at  his  table,  that  he  wishes  Sir  Eoger  does 
not  harbor  a  Jesuit  in  his  house,  and  that  he  thinks 
the  gentlemen  of  the  country  would  do  very  well  to 
make  me  give  some  account  of  myself. 

25       On  the  other  side,  some  of  Sir  Eoger's  friends  are 


XVIIl]      SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  105 

afraid  the  old  Knight  is  imposed  upon  by  a  designing 
fellow,  and  as  they  have  heard  that  he  converses  very 
promiscuously,  when  he  is  in  town,  do  not  know  but 
he  has  brought  down  with  him  some  discarded  Whig, 
that  is  sullen  and  says  nothing  because  he  is  out  of  5 
place. 

Such  is  the  variety  of  opinions  which  are  here  enter- 
tained of  me,  so  that  I  pass  among  some  for  a  dis- 
affected person,  and  among  others  for  a  Popish  priest; 
among  some  for  a  wizard,  and  among  others  for  a  10 
murderer;  and  all  this  for  no  other  reason,  that  I  can 
imagine,  but  because  I  do  not  hoot  and  holloa  and 
make  a  nois'e.  It  is  true,  my  friend  Sir  Koger  tells 
them,  that  it  is  my  way,  and  that  I  am  only  a  philoso- 
pher; but  this  will  not  satisfy  them.  They  think  15 
there  is  more  in  me  than  he  discovers,  and  that  I  do 
not  hold  my  tongue  for  nothing. 

Eor  these  and  other  reasons  I  shall  set  out  for  Lon- 
don to-morrow,  having  found  by  experience  that  the 
country  is  not  a  place  for  a  person  of  my  temper,  who  20 
does  not  love  jollity,  and  what  they  call  good  neigh- 
borhood. A  man  that  is  out  of  humor  when  an  unex- 
pected guest  breaks  in  upon  him,  and  does  not  care 
for  sacrificing  an  afternoon  to  every  chance-comer, 
that  will  be  the  master  of  his  own  time,  and  the  pur-  25 


106  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS     [xvill 

suer  of  his  own  inclinations,  makes  but  a  very  unso- 
ciable figure  in  this  kind  of  life.  I  shall  therefore 
retire  into  the  town,  if  I  may  make  use  of  that  phrase, 
and  get  into  the  crowd  again  as  fast  as  I  can,  in  order 

5  to  be  alone.  I  can  there  raise  what  speculations  I 
please  upon  others,  without  being  observed  myself, 
and  at  the  same  time  enjoy  all  the  advantages  of  com- 
pany with  all  the  privileges  of  solitude.  In  the  mean- 
while, to  finish  the  month,  and  conclude  these  my 

10  rural  speculations,  I  shall  here  insert  a  letter  from 
my  friend  Will  Honeycomb,  who  has  not  lived  a  month 
for  these  forty  years  out  of  the  smoke  of  London,  and 
rallies  me  after  his  way  upon  my  country  life. 

"Dear  Spec, — • 

15  "I  suppose  this  letter  will  find  thee  picking  of 
daisies,  or  smelling  to  a  lock  of  hay,  or  passing  away 
thy  time  in  some  innocent  country  diversion  of  the 
like  nature.  I  have,  however,  orders  from  the  club 
to  summon  thee  up  to  town,  being  all  of  us  cursedly 

20  afraid  thou  wilt  not  be  able  to  relish  our  company, 
after  thy  conversations  with  Moll  White  and  Will 
Wimble.  Pr'ythee  don't  send  us  up  any  more  stories 
of  a  cock  and  a  bull,  nor  frighten  the  town  with  spirits 
and  witches.     Thy  speculations  begin  to  smell  con- 


XIX]         SIR    ROGUE    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  107 

foundedly  of  woods  and  meadows.  If  thou  dost  not 
come  up  quickly,  we  shall  conclude  that  thou  art  in 
love  with  one  of  Sir  Eoger's  dairy-maids.  Service  to 
the  Knight.  Sir  Andrew  is  grown  the  cock  of  the 
club  since  he  left  us,  and  if  he  does  not  return  quickly 
will  make  every  mother's  son  of  us  Commonwealth's 
men.° 

^^Dear  Spec, 

"Thine  eternally, 

"Will  Honeycomb.'' 


XIX.    THE   SPECTATOR'S  EXPERIENCE  IN  A  STAGE- 
COACH. 

Having  notified  to  my  good  friend  Sir  Eoger  that 
I  should  set  out  for  London  the  next  day,  his  horses 
were  ready  at  the  appointed  hour  in  the  evening; 
and  attended  by  one  of  his  grooms,  I  arrived  at  the 
county-town  at  twilight,  in  order  to  be  ready  for  the  15 
stage-coach  the  day  following.  As  soon  as  we  ar- 
rived at  the  inn,  the  servant  who  waited  upon  me, 
inquired  of  the  chamberlain,  in  my  hearing,  what 
company  he  had  for  the  coach.  The  fellow  answered, 
"  Mrs.  Betty  Arable,  the  great  fortune,  and  the  widow  20 
her  mother ;  a  recruiting  officer  (who  took  a  place  be- 


108  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS        [xiX 

cause  they  were  to  go) ;  young  Squire  Quickset,  lier 
cousin  (that  her  mother  wished  her  to  be  married  to) ; 
Ephraim,  the  Quaker,  her  guardian ;  and  a  gentleman 
that  had  studied  himself  dumb  from  Sir  Eoger  de 

5  Coverley's."  I  observed  by  what  he  said  of  myself, 
that  according  to  his  office,  he  dealt  much  in  intelli- 
gence ;  and  doubted  not  but  there  was  some  founda- 
tion for  his  reports  of  the  rest  of  the  company,  as  well 
as  for  the  whimsical  account -he  gave  of  me. 

lo  The  next  morning  at  day -break  we  were  all  called ; 
and  I,  who  know  my  own  natural  shyness,  and  endeavor 
to  be  as  little  liable  to  be  disputed  with  as  possible, 
dressed  immediately  that  I  might  make  no  one  wait. 
The  first  preparation  for  our  setting  out  was,  that  the 

15  captain's  half -pike  was  placed  near  the  coachman,  and 
a  drum  behind  the  coach.  In  the  meantime  the  drum- 
mer, the  captain's  equipage,  was  very  loud  that  none 
of  the  captain's  things  should  be  placed  so  as  to  be 
spoiled;    upon  which  his  cloak-bag  was  fixed  in  the 

20  seat  of  the  coach ;  and  the  captain  himself,  according 
to  a  frequent,  though  invidious  behavior  of  military 
men,  ordered  his  man  to  look  sharp,  that  none  but  one 
of  the  ladies  should  have  the  place  he  had  taken 
fronting  to  tKe  coach-box. 

25       We  were  in  some  little  time  fixed  in  our  seats,  and 


Xix]         SIB    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  109 

sat  with  tliat  dislike  which  people  not  too  good- 
natured  usually  conceive  of  each  other  at  first  sight. 
The  coach  jumbled  us  insensibly  into  some  sort  of 
familiarity :  and  we  had  not  moved  above  two  miles, 
when  the  widow  asked  the  captain  what  success  he  5 
had  in  his  recruiting.  The  officer,  with  a  frankness 
he  believed  very  graceful,  told  her  that  indeed  he 
had  but  very  little  luck,  and  had  suffered  much  by 
desertion,  therefore  should  be  glad  to  end  his  warfare 
in  the  service  of  her  or  her  fair  daughter.  "In  a  lo 
word,^'  continued  he,  "I  am  a  soldier,  and  to  be 
plain  is  my  character:  you  see  me,  madam,  young, 
sound,  and  impudent;  take  me  yourself,  widow,  or 
give  me  to  her,  I  will  be  wholly  at  your  disposal.  I 
am  a  soldier  of  fortune,  ha !  '^  This  was  followed  by  15 
a  vain  laugh  of  his  own,  and  a  deep  silence  of  all  the 
rest  of  the  company.  I  had  nothing  left  for  it  but  to 
fall  fast  asleep,  which  I  did  with  all  speed.  "  Come," 
said  he,  "resolve  upon  it,  we  will  make  a  wedding  at 
the  next  town :  we  will  wake  this  pleasant  companion  20 
who  has  fallen  asleep,  to  be  the  brideman,  and  "  (giv- 
ing the  Quaker  a  clap  on  the  knee)  he  concluded, 
"this  sly  saint,  who,  Pll  warrant,  understands  what's 
what  as  well  as  you  or  I,  widow,  shall  give  the  bride 
as  father."  25 


110  SIR    ROGER    I)E    COVERLEY   PAPERS        [xiX 

The  Quaker,  who  happened  to  be  a  man  of  smart- 
ness, answered,  "Friend,  I  take  it  in  good  part,  that 
thou  hast  given  me  the  authority  of  a  father  over  this 
comely  and  virtuous  child;  and  I  must  assure  thee, 

5  that  if  I  have  the  giving  her,  I  shall  not  bestow  her 
on  thee.  Thy  mirth,  friend,  savoreth  of  folly :  thou 
art  a  person  of  a  light  mind ;  thy  drum  is  a  type  of 
thee,  it  soundeth  because  it  is  empty.  Verily  it  is  not 
from  thy  fulness,  but  thy  emptiness,  that  thou  hast 

10  spoken  this  day.  Friend,  friend,  we  have  hired  this 
coach  in  partnership  with  thee  to  carry  us  to  the  great 
city;  we  cannot  go  any  other  way.  This  worthy 
mother  must  hear  thee  if  thou  wilt  needs  utter  thy 
follies ;  we  cannot  help  it,  friend,  I  say :  if  thou  wilt, 

15  we  must  hear  thee;  but  if  thou  wert  a  man  of  under- 
standing, thou  wouldst  not  take  advantage  of  thy 
courageous  countenance  to  abash  us  children  of  peace. 
Thou  art,  thou  sayest,  a  soldier;  give  quarter  to  us, 
who  cannot  resist  thee.     Why  didst  thou  fleer  at  our 

20  friend,  who  feigned  himself  asleep  ?  He  said  nothing, 
but  how  dost  thou  know  what  he  containeth  ?  If  thou 
speakest  improper  things  in  the  hearing  of  this  vir- 
tuous young  virgin,  consider  it  is  an  outrage  against 
a  distressed  person  that   cannot  get  from  thee:  to 

25  speak  indiscreetly  what  we  are  obliged  to  hear,  by 


Xix]         SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  111 

being  hasped  up  with  thee  in  this  public  vehicle,  is 
in  some  degree  assaulting  on  the  high  road." 

Here  Ephraim  paused,  and  the  captain  with  an 
happy  and  uncommon  impudence  (which  can  be  con- 
victed and  support  itself  at  the  same  time)  cries, 
"Faith,  friend,  I  thank  thee;  I  should  have  been  a 
little  impertinent  if  thou  hadst  not  reprimanded  me. 
Come,  thou  art,  I  see,  a  smoky  old  fellow,  and  I'll  be 
very  orderly  the  ensuing  part  of  the  journey.  I  was 
going  to  give  myself  airs,  but,  ladies,  1  beg  pardon.'' 

The  captain  was  so  little  out  of  humor,  and  our  com- 
pany was  so  far  from  being  soured  by  this  little  ruffle, 
that  Ephraim  and  he  took  a  particular  delight  in  being 
agreeable  to  each  other  for  the  future ;  and  assumed 
their  different  provinces  in  the  conduct  of  the  com- 
pany. Our  reckonings,  apartments,  and  accommodation 
fell  under  Ephraim;  and  the  captain  looked  to  all 
disputes  on  the  road,  as  the  good  behavior  of  our 
coachman,  and  the  right°  we  had  of  taking  place  as 
going  to  London  of  all  vehicles  coming  from  thence. 

The  occurrences  we  met  with  were  ordinary,  and 
very  little  happened  which  could  entertain  by  the 
relation  of  them :  but  when  I  considered  the  company 
we  were  in,  I  took  it  for  no  small  good  fortune  that 
the  whole  journey  was  not   spent  in  impertinences, 


112  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS        [xiX 

which  to  one  part  of  us  might  be  an  entertainment,  to 
the  other  a  suffering. 

What,  therefore,  Ephraim  said  when  we  were  almost 
arrived  at  London,  had  to  me  an  air  not  only  of  good 

5  understanding  but  good-breeding.  Upon  the  young 
lady's  expressing  her  satisfaction  in  the  journey,  and 
declaring  how  delightful  it  had  been  to  her,  Ephraim 
declared  himself  as  follows:  "There  is  no  ordinary 
part  of  human  life  which  expresseth  so  much  a  good 

10  mind,  and  a  right  inward  man,  as  his  behavior  upon 
meeting  with  strangers,  especially  such  as  may  seem 
the  most  unsuitable  companions  to  him :  such  a  man, 
when  he  falleth  in  the  way  with  persons  of  simplicity 
and  innocence,  however  knowing  he  may  be  in  the 

15  ways  of  men,  will  not  vaunt  himself  thereof;  but  will 
the  rather  hide  his  superiority  to  them,  that  he  may 
not  be  painful  unto  them.  My  good  friend"  (con- 
tinued he,  turning  to  the  officer),  "  thee  and  I  are  to 
part  by  and  by,  and  peradventure  we  may  never  meet 

20  again :  but  be  advised  by  a  plain  man ;  modes  and 
apparel  are  but  trifles  to  the  real  man,  therefore  do 
not  think  such  a  man  as  thyself  terrible  for  thy  garb, 
nor  such  a  one  as  me  contemptible  for  mine.  When 
two  such  as  thee  and  I  meet,  with  affections  as  we 

25  ought  to  have  towards   each    other,   thou    shouldst 


XX]  SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  113 

rejoice  to  see  my  peaceable  demeanor,  and  I  should 
be  glad  to  see  thy  strength  and  ability  to  protect  me 
in  it." 


XX.  STREET  CRIES  OF  LONDON. 

There  is  nothing  which  more  astonishes  a  foreigner, 
and  frights  a  country  squire,  than  the  Cries  of  Lon-  5 
don.  My  good  friend  Sir  Eoger  often  declares,  that 
he  cannot  get  them  out  of  his  head,  or  go  to  sleep  for 
them,  the  first  week  that  he  is  in  town.  On  the  con- 
trary, Will  Honeycomb  calls  them  the  Ramage  de  la 
Ville°  and  prefers  them  to  the  sounds  of  larks  and  10 
nightingales,  with  all  the  music  of  the  fields  and 
woods.  I  have  lately  received  a  letter  from  some 
very  odd  fellow  upon  this  subject,  which  I  shall  leave 
with  my  reader,  without  saying  anything  further  of  it. 
"Sir,—  15 

"I  am  a  man  of  all  business,  and  would  willingly 
turn  my  head  to  anything  for  an  honest  livelihood. 
I  have  invented  several  projects  for  raising  many 
millions  of  money  without  burthening  the  subject, 
but  I  cannot  get  the  Parliament  to  listen  to  me,  who  20 
look  upon  me,  forsooth,  as  a  crack°  and  a  projector; 
so  that  despairing  to   enrich   either  myself  or  my 


114  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  [xx 

country  by  this  public-spiritedness,  I  would  make 
some  proposals  to  you  relating  to  a  design  which  I 
have  very  much  at  heart,  and  which  may  procure 
me  a  handsome  subsistence,  if  you  will  be   pleased 

5  to  recommend  it  to  the  cities  of  London  and  West- 
minster. 

"  The  post  I  would  aim  at  is  to  be  Comptroller- 
general  of  the  London  Cries,  which  are  at  present 
under  no  manner  of  rules  or  discipline.     I  think  I 

10  am  pretty  well  qualified  for  this  place,  as  being  a 
man  of  very  strong  lungs,  of  great  insight  into  all 
the  branches  of  our  British  trades  and  manufactures, 
and  of  a  competent  skill  in  music. 

^^The  Cries°  of  London  may  be  divided  into  vocal 

15  and  instrumental.  As  for  the  latter,  they  are  at  pres- 
ent under  a  very  great  disorder.  A  freeman°  of  Lon- 
don has  the  privilege  of  disturbing  a  whole  street  for 
an  hour  together,  with  the  twanking  of  a  brass  kettle 
or  a  frying-pan.     The  watchman's  thump  at  midnight 

20  startles  us  in  our  beds,  as  much  as  the  breaking  in  of 
a  thief.  The  sowgelder's  horn  has  indeed  something 
musical  in  it,  but  this  is  seldom  heard  within  the 
liberties.  I  would  therefore  propose,  that  no  instru- 
ment of  this  nature  should  be  made  use  of,  which  I 

25  have  not  tuned  and  licensed,  after  having  carefully 


xx]  sin    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  115 

examined  in  what  manner  it  may  affect  the  ears  of 
Her  Majesty's  liege  subjects. 

"Vocal  cries  are  of  a  much  larger  extent,  and,  in- 
deed, so  full  of  incongruities  and  barbarisms,  that  we 
appear  a  distracted  city  to  foreigners,  who  do  not  com-  5 
prehend  the  meaning  of  such  enormous  outcries.  Milk 
is  generally  sold  in  a  note  above  ela°  and  in  sounds  so 
exceeding  shrill,  that  it  often  sets  our  teeth  on  edge. 
The  chimney-sweeper  is  confined  to  no  certain  pitch ; 
he  sometimes  utters  himself  in  the  deepest  base,  and  lo 
sometimes  in  the  sharpest  treble;  sometimes  in  the 
highest,  and  sometimes  in  the  lowest  note  of  the 
gamut.  The  same  observation  might  be  made  on 
the  retailers  of  small  coal,  not  to  mention  broken 
glasses  or  brick-dust.  In  these,  therefore,  and  the  ^5 
like  cases,  it  should  be  my  care  to  sweeten  and  mellow 
the  voices  of  these  itinerant  tradesmen,  before  they 
make  their  appearance  in  our  streets,  as  also  to  ac- 
commodate their  cries  to  their  respective  wares ;  and 
to  take  care  in  particular  that  those  may  not  make  20 
the  most  noise  who  have  the  least  to  sell,  which  is 
very  observable  in  the  venders  of  card-matches,  to 
whom  I  cannot  but  apply  that  old  proverb  of  ^  Much 
cry,  but  little  wool.' 

"Some  of  these  last-mentioned  musicians   are   so  25 


116  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  [xx 

very  loud  in  the  sale  of  these  trifling  manufactures, 
that  an  honest  splenetic  gentleman  of  my  acquaint- 
ance bargained  with  one  of  them  never  to  come  into 
the  street  where  he  lived :  but  what  was  the  effect  of 

5  this  contract?  why,  the  whole  tribe  of  card-match- 
makers which  frequent  that  quarter,  passed  by  his 
door  the  very  next  day,  in  hopes  of  being  bought  off 
after  the  same  manner. 

"  It  is  another  great  imperfection  in  our  London 

10  Cries,  that  there  is  no  just  time  nor  measure  observed 
in  them.  Our  news  should,  indeed,  be  published  in 
a  very  quick  time,  because  it  is  a  commodity  that  will 
not  keep  cold.  It  should  not,  however,  be  cried  with 
the  same  precipitation  as  '  fire ' :  yet  this  is  generally 

15  the  case.  A  bloody  battle  alarms  the  town  from  one 
end  to  another  in  an  instant.  Every  motion  of  the 
French  is  published  in  so  great  a  hurry,  that  one 
would  think  the  enemy  were  at  our  gates.  This  like- 
wise I  would  take  upon  me  to  regulate  in   such  a 

20  manner,  that  there  should  be  some  distinction  made 
between  the  spreading  of  a  victory,  a  march,  or  an 
encampment,  a  Dutch,  a  Portugal,  or  a  Spanish  mail. 
Nor  must  I  omit,  under  this  head,  those  excessive 
alarms  with  which  several  boisterous  rustics   infest 

25  our  streets  in  turnip  season ;  and  which  are  more  in- 


XX]  SIR   ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  117 

excusable,  because  these  are  wares  which  are  in  no 
danger  of  cooling  upon  their  hands. 

"There  are  others  who  affect  a  very  slow  time, 
and  are,  in  my  opinion,  much  more  tunable  than  the 
former ;  the  cooper,  in  particular,  swells  his  last  note  5 
in  an  hollow  voice,  that  is  not  without  its  harmony : 
nor  can  I  forbear  being  inspired  with  a  most  agreeable 
melancholy,  when  I  hear  that  sad  and  solemn  air  with 
which  the  public  are  very  often  asked,  if  they  have 
any  chairs  to  mend  ?  Your  own  memory  may  suggest  lo 
to  you  many  other  lamentable  ditties  of  the  same 
nature,  in  which  the  music  is  wonderfully  languish- 
ing and  melodious. 

"  I  am  always  pleased  with  that  particular  time  of 
the  year  which  is  proper  for  the  pickling  of  dill  and  15 
cucumbers;  but,  alas,  this  cry,  like  the  song  of  the 
nightingale,  is  not  heard  above  two  months.  It 
would,  therefore,  be  worth  while  to  consider  whether 
the  same  air  might  not  in  some  cases  be  adapted  to 
other  words.  20 

"It  might  likewise  deserve  our  most  serious  con- 
sideration, how  far,  in  a  well-regulated  city,  those  hu- 
morists are  to  be  tolerated,  who,  not  contented  with 
the  traditional  cries  of  their  forefathers,  have  invented 
particular  songs  and  tunes  of  their  own :    such  as  was,  25 


118  sin    ROGEH  DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS  [xx 

not  many  years  since,  the  pastry-man,  commonly 
known  by  the  name  of  the  colly-molly-puff ;  and  such 
as  is  at  this  day  the  vender  of  powder  and  wash-balls, 
who,  if  I  am  rightly  informed,  goes  under  the  name 

5    of  Powder  Watt. 

"I  must  not  here  omit  one  particular  absurdity 
which  runs  through  this  whole  vociferous  generation, 
and  which  renders  their  cries  very  often  not  only 
incommodious,  but  altogether  useless  to  the  public ; 

10  I  mean  that  idle  accomplishment  Avhich  they  all  of 
them  aim  at,  of  crying  so  as  not  to  be  understood. 
Whether  or  no  they  have  learned  this  from  several 
of  our  affected  singers,  I  will  not  take  upon  me  to 
say;   but  most  certain  it  is,  that  people   know  the 

15  wares  they  deal  in  rather  by  their  tunes  than  by  their 
words ;  insomuch,  that  I  have  sometimes  seen  a  country 
boy  run  out  to  buy  apples  of  a  bellows-mender,  and 
gingerbread  from  a  grinder  of  knives  and  scissors. 
Nay,  so  strangely  infatuated  are  some  very  eminent 

20  artists  of  this  particular  grace  in  a  cry,  that  none  but 
their  acquaintance  are  able  to  guess  at  their  profes- 
sion ;  for  who  else  can  know  that  ^  Work  if  I  had  it ' 
should  be  the  signification  of  a  corn-cutter  ? 

"Forasmuch,  therefore,  as  persons  of  this  rank  are 

25  seldom  men  of  genius  or  capacity,  I  think  it  would 


XXl]  sin    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS         119 

be  very  proper,  that  some  man  of  good  sense,  and 
sound  judgment,  should  preside  over  these  public 
Cries,  who  should  permit  none  to  lift  up  their  voices 
in  our  streets,  that  have  not  tunable  throats,  and 
are  not  only  able  to  overcome  the  noise  of  the  crowd, 
and  the  rattling  of  coaches,  but  also  to  vend  their 
respective  merchandises  in  apt  phrases,  and  in  the 
most  distinct  and  agreeable  sounds.  I  do  therefore 
humbly  recommend  myself  as  a  person  rightly  quali- 
fied for  this  post :  and  if  I  meet  with  fitting  encour- 
agement, shall  communicate  some  other  projects 
which  I  have  by  me,  that  may  no  less  conduce  to  the 
emolument  of  the  public. 
'^  I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

'^Ealph  Crotchet." 


XXI.     SIR  ROGER  IN  TOWN. 

I  WAS  this  morning  surprised  with  a  great  knocking 
at  the  door,  when  my  landlady's  daughter  came  up  to 
me,  and  told  me  that  there  was  a  man  below  desired 
to  speak  with  me.  Upon  my  asking  her  who  it  was, 
she  told  me  it  was  a  very  grave  elderly  person,  but  20 
that  she  did  not  know  his  name.  I  immediately 
went  down  to  him,  and  found  him  to  be  the  coachman 


120  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS        [xxi 

of  my  worthy  friend  Sir  Eoger  de  Coverley.  He  told 
me  that  his  master  came  to  town  last  nighty  and  would 
be  glad  to  take  a  turn  with  me  in  Gray's-Inn  Walks. 
As  I  was  wondering  in  myself  what  had  brought  Sir 

5  Eoger  to  town,  not  having  lately  received  any  letter 
from  him,  he  told  me  that  his  master  was  come  up  to 
get  a  sight  of  Prince  Eugene,  and  that  he  desired  I 
would  immediately  meet  him. 

I  was  not  a  little  pleased  with  the  curiosity  of  the 

10  old  Knight,  though  I  did  not  much  wonder  at  it, 
having  heard  him  say  more  than  once  in  private  dis- 
course, that  he  looked  upon  Prince  Eugenio°  (for  so 
the  Knight  always  calls  him),  to  be  a  greater  man  than 
Scanderbeg.° 

15  I  was  no  sooner  come  into  Gray's-Inn  Walks,  but  I 
heard  my  friend  upon  the  terrace  hemming  twice  or 
thrice  to  himself  with  great  vigor,  for  he  loves  to  clear 
his  pipes  in  good  air  (to  make  use  of  his  own  phrase), 
and  is  not  a  little  pleased  with  any  one  who  takes 

20  notice  of  the  strength  which  he  still  exerts  in  his 
morning  hems. 

I  was  touched  with  a  secret  joy  at  the  sight  of  the 
good  old  man,  who  before  he  saw  me  was  engaged  in 
conversation  with  a  beggar-man  that  had  asked  an 

25  alms  of  him.     I  could  hear  my  friend  chide  him  for 


XXl]         SIR    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS  121 

not  finding  out  some  work  5  but  at  the  same  time  saw 
him  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  give  him  sixpence. 

Our  salutations  were  very  hearty  on  both  sides,  con- 
sisting of  many  kind  shakes  of  the  hand,  and  several 
affectionate  looks  which  we  cast  upon  one  another.  5 
After  which  the  Knight  told  me  my  good  friend  his 
chaplain  was  very  well,  and  much  at  my  service,  and 
that  the  Sunday  before  he  had  made  a  most  incom- 
parable sermon  out  of  Doctor  Barrow.  "  I  have  left, 
says  he,  "all  my  affairs  in  his  hands,  and  being  will-  10 
ing  to  lay  an  obligation  upon  him,  have  deposited  with 
him  thirty  marks,  to  be  distributed  among  his  poor 
parishioners." 

He  then  proceeded  to  acquaint  me  with  the  welfare 
of  Will  Wimble.  Upon  which  he  put  his  hand  into  15 
his  fob  and  presented  me  in  his  name  with  a  tobacco- 
stopper,  telling  me  that  Will  had  been  busy  all  the 
beginning  of  the  winter,  in  turning  great  quantities 
of  them ;  and  that  he  made  a  present  of  one  to  every 
gentleman  in  the  country  who  has  good  principles,  20 
and  smokes.  He  added,  that  poor  Will  was  at  present 
under  great  tribulation,  for  that  Tom  Touchy  had 
taken  the  law  of  him  for  cutting  some  hazel  sticks 
out  of  one  of  his  hedges. 

Among  other  pieces   of  news  which  the  Knight  25 


122  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS        [xXT 

brought  from  his  country  seat,  he  informed  me  that 
Moll  White  was  dead;  and  that  about  a  month  after 
her  death  the  wind  was  so  very  high,  that  it  blew 
down  the  end  of  one  of  his  barns.     "  But  for  my  own 

5  part,"  says  Sir  Eoger,  "I  do  not  think  that  the  old 
woman  had  any  hand  in  it." 

He  afterwards  fell  into  an  account  of  the  diversions 
which  had  passed  in  his  house  during  the  holidays ; 
for  Sir  Eoger,  after  the  laudable  custom  of  his  ances- 

10  tors,  always  keeps  open  house  at  Christmas.  I  learned 
from  him  that  he  had  killed  eight  fat  hogs  for  the 
season,  that  he  had  dealt  about  his  chines  very  liber- 
ally amongst  his  neighbors,  and  that  in  particular  he 
had  sent  a  string  of  hogs -puddings  with  a  pack  of 

15  cards  to  every  poor  family  in  the  parish.  "I  have 
often  thought, "  says  Sir  Eoger,  "  it  happens  very  well 
that  Christmas  should  fall  out  in  the  middle  of  the 
winter.  It  is  the  most  dead,  uncomfortable  time  of 
the  year,  when  the  poor  people  would   suffer  very 

20  much  from  their  poverty  and  cold,  if  they  had  not 
good  cheer,  warm  fires,  and  Christmas  gambols  to 
support  them.  I  love  to  rejoice  their  poor  hearts  at 
this  season,  and  to  see  the  whole  village  merry  in  my 
great  hall.     I  allow  a  double  quantity  of  malt  to  my 

25  small  beer,  and  set  it  a  running  for  twelve  days  to 


XXl]         SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  123 

every  one  that  calls  for  it.  I  have  always  a  piece  of 
cold  beef  and  a  mince-pie  upon  the  table,  and  am 
wonderfully  pleased  to  see  my  tenants  pass  away  a 
whole  evening  in  playing  their  innocent  tricks,  and 
smutting  one  another.  Our  friend  Will  Wimble  is  5 
as  merry  as  any  of  them,  and  shows  a  thousand  roguish 
tricks  upon  these  occasions." 

I  was  very  much  delighted  with  the  reflection  of  my 
old  friend,  which  carried  so  much  goodness  in  it.  He 
then  launched  out  into  the  praise  of  the  late  Act  of  10 
Parliament  for  securing  the  Church  of  England,  °  and 
told  me,  with  great  satisfaction,  that  he  believed  it 
already  began  to  take  effect,  for  that  a  rigid  Dis- 
senter, who  chanced  to  dine  at  his  house  on  Christmas 
day,  had  been  observed  to  eat  very  plentifully  of  his  15 
plum-porridge. 

After  having  dispatched  all  our  country  matters, 
Sir  Eoger  made  several  inquiries  concerning  the  club, 
and  particularly  of  his  old  antagonist  Sir  Andrew 
Freeport.  He  asked  me  with  a  kind  of  smile  whether  20 
Sir  Andrew  had  not  taken  advantage  of  his  absence  to 
vent  among  them  some  of  his  republican  doctrines; 
but  soon  after,  gathering  up  his  countenance  into  a 
more  than  ordinary  seriousness,  "  Tell  me  truly, "  says 
he,  "  don't  you  think  Sir  Andrew  had  a  hand  in  the  25 


124  SIE    ROGER    BE    COVERLEY   PAPERS         [xxi 

Pope's  Procession?  "°  —  but  without  giving  me  time 
to  answer  him,  "Well,  well,"  says  he,  "I  know  you 
are  a  wary  man,  and  do  not  care  to  talk  of  public 
matters." 

5  The  Knight  then  asked  me  if  I  had  seen  Prince 
Eugenio,  and  made  me  promise  to  get  him  a  stand  in 
some  convenient  place  where  he  might  have  a  full 
sight  of  that  extraordinary  man,  whose  presence  does 
so  much  honor  to  the  British  nation.     He  dwelt  very 

10  long  on  the  praises  of  this  great  general,  and  I  found 
that,  since  I  was  with  him  in  the  country,  he  had 
drawn  many  observations  together  out  of  his  reading 
in  Baker's  Chronicle,  and  other  authors,  who  always 
lie  in  his  hall  window,  which  very  much  redound  to 

15  the  honor  of  this  prince. 

Having  passed  away  the  greatest  part  of  the  morn- 
ing in  hearing  the  Knight's  reflections,  which  were 
partly  private,  and  partly  political,  he  asked  me  if  I 
would  smoke  a  pipe  with  him  over  a  dish  of  coffee  at 

20  Squire's.  As  I  love  the  old  man,  I  take  delight  in 
complying  with  everything  that  is  agreeable  to  him, 
and  accordingly  waited  on  him  to  the  coffee-house, 
where  his  venerable  figure  drew  upon  us  the  eyes  of 
the  whole  room.     He  had  no  sooner  seated  himself 

25  at  the  upper  end  of  the  high  table,  but  he  called  for  a 


XXll]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  125 

clean  pipe,  a  paper  of  tobacco,  a  dish  of  coffee,  a  wax 
candle,  and  the  Supplement,  °  with  such  an  air  of 
cheerfulness  and  good-humor,  that  all  the  boys  in  the 
coffee-room  (who  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  serving 
him)  were  at  once  employed  on  his  several  errands,  5 
insomuch  that  nobody  else  could  come  at  a  dish  of 
tea,  till  the  Knight  had  got  all  his  conveniences  about 
him. 

XXII.     SIR  ROGER   IN  WESTMINSTER   ABBEY. 

My  friend  Sir  Eoger  de  Coverley  told  me  t'other 
night  that  he  had  been  reading  my  paper  upon  West-  lo 
minster  Abbey,  in  which,  says  he,  there  are  a  great 
many  ingenious  fancies.     He  told  me,  at  the   same 
time,  that  he  observed  I  had  promised  another  paper 
upon  the  tombs,  °  and  that  he  should  be  glad  to  go  and 
see  them  with  me,  not  having  visited  them  since  he  15 
had  read  history.     I  could  not  at  first  imagine  how 
this  came  into  the  Knight's  head,  till  I  recollected  that 
he  had  been  very  busy  all  last  summer  upon  Baker's 
Chronicle,  which  he  has  quoted  several  times  in  his 
disputes  with  Sir  Andrew  Freeport  since  his  last  com-  20 
ing  to  town.     Accordingly,  I  promised  to  call  upon 
him  the  next  morning,  that  we  might  go  together  to 
the  Abbey. 


126  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS        [xxil 

I  found  the  Knight  under  his  butler's  hands,  who 
always  shaves  him.  He  was  no  sooner  dressed  than 
he  called  for  a  glass  of  the  Widow  Trueby's  water, 
which  he  told  me  he  always  drank  before  he  went 

5  abroad.  He  recommended  me  to  a  dram  of  it  at  the 
same  time,  with  so  much  heartiness,  that  I  could  not 
forbear  drinking  it.  As  soon  as  I  had  got  it  down,  I 
found  it  very  unpalatable;  upon  which  the  Knight, 
observing  that  I  had  made  several  wry  faces,  told  me 

10  that  he  knew  I  should  not  like  it  at  first,  but  that  it 
was  the  best  thing  in  the  world  against  the  stone  or 
gravel. 

I  could  have  wished,  indeed,  that  he  had  acquainted 
me  with  the  virtues  of  it  sooner;  but  it  was  too  late  to 

15  complain,  and  I  knew  what  he  had  done  was  out  of 
good-will.  Sir  Roger  told  me,  further,  that  he  looked 
upon  it  to  be  very  good  for  a  man  whilst  he  stayed  in 
town,  to  keep  off  infection;  and  that  he  got  together 
a  quantity  of  it  upon  the  first  news  of  the  sickness° 

20  being  at  Dantzic.  When  of  a  sudden,  turning  short 
to  one  of  his  servants,  who  stood  behind  him,  he  bid 
him  call  a  hackney-coach,  and  take  care  it  was  an 
elderly  man  that  drove  it. 

He  then  resumed  his  discourse  upon  Mrs.  Trueby's 

25  water,  telling  me  that  the  Widow  Trueby  was  one  who 


XXIl]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  127 

did  more  good  than  all  the  doctors  and  apothecaries 
in  the  county;  that  she  distilled  every  poppy  that 
grew  within  five  miles  of  her;  that  she  distributed 
her  water  gratis  among  all  sorts  of  people :  to  which 
the  Knight  added,  that  she  had  a  very  great  jointure,  5 
and  that  the  whole  country  would  fain  have  it  a  match 
between  him  and  her;  "And  truly,''  says  Sir  Eoger, 
"  if  I  had  not  been  engaged,  perhaps  I  could  not  have 
done  better." 

His  discourse  was  broken  off  by  his  man's  telling  10 
him  he  had  called  a  coach.  Upon  our  going  to  it, 
after  having  cast  his  eye  upon  the  wheels,  he  asked 
the  coachman"  if  his  axletree  was  good;  upon  the  fel- 
low's telling  him  he  would  warrant  it,  the  Knight 
turned  to  me,  told  me  he  looked  like  an  honest  man,  15 
and  went  in  without  further  ceremony. 

We  had  not  gone  far,  when  Sir  Eoger,  popping  out 
his  head,  called  the  coachman  down  from  his  box, 
and,  upon  his  presenting  himself  at  the  window,  asked 
him  if  he  smoked:  as  I  was  considering  what  this  20 
would  end  in,  he  bid  him  stop  by  the  way  at  any 
good  tobacconist's,  and  take  in  a  roll  of  their  best 
Virginia.  Nothing  material  happened  in  the  remain- 
ing part  of  our  journey  till  we  were  set  down  at  the 
west  end  of  the  Abbey.  25 


128  SIR    ROGER    BE    COVERLET   PAPERS       [xxil 

As  we  went  up  the  body  of  the  church,  the  Knight 
pointed  at  the  trophies  upon  one  of  the  new  monu- 
ments, and  cried  out,  "A  brave  man,  I  warrant  him!  " 
Passing  afterwards  by  Sir  Cloudesley  Shovel, °  he  flung 

5  his  hand  that  way,  and  cried,  "  Sir  Cloudesley  Shovel! 
a  very  gallant  man!"  As  we  stood  before  Busby's 
tomb,  the  Knight  uttered  himself  again  after  the  same 
manner, —  "Dr.  Busby°  —  a  great  man!  he  whipped 
my  grandfather  —  a  very  great  man !     I  should  have 

10  gone  to  him  myself  if  I  had  not  been  a  blockhead  —  a 
very  great  man! " 

We  were  immediately  conducted  into  the  little 
chapel  on  the  right  hand.  Sir  Eoger,  planting  him- 
self at  our  historian's  elbow,  was  very  attentive  to 

15  everything  he  said,  particularly  to  the  account  he 
gave  us  of  the  lord  who  had  cut  off  the  King  of 
Morocco's  head.  Among  several  other  figures,  he  was 
very  well  pleased  to  see  the  statesman  CeciF  upon  his 
knees;  and,  concluding  them  all  to  be  great  men,  was 

20  conducted  to  the  figure^  which  represents  that  martyr 
to  good  housewifery,  who  died  by  the  prick  of  a  needle. 
Upon  our  interpreter's  telling  us  that  she  was  a  maid 
of  honor  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  Knight  was  very  in- 
quisitive into  her  name  and  family;  and,  after  having 

25  regarded  her  finger  for  some  time,  "I  wonder,"  says 


XXIl]       SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  129 

he,  "that  Sir  Eichard  Baker  has  said  nothing  of  her 
in  his  Chronicle." 

We  were  then  conveyed  to  the  two  coronation 
chairs,  °  where  my  old  friend,  after  having  heard  that 
the  stone  underneath  the  most  ancient  of  them,  which  5 
was  brought  from  Scotland,  was  called  Jacob's  Pillar, 
sat  himself  down  in  the  chair;  and,  looking  like  the 
figure  of  an  old  Gothic  king,  asked  our  interpreter 
what  authority  they  had  to  say  that  Jacob  had  ever 
been  in  Scotland.  The  fellow,  instead  of  returning  10 
him  an  answer,  told  him  that  he  hoped  his  honor  would 
pay  his  forfeit.  I  could  observe  Sir  Eoger  a  little 
ruffled  upon  being  thus  trepanned;  but,  our  guide  not 
insisting  upon  his  demand,  the  Knight  soon  recovered 
his  good-humor,  and  whispered  in  my  ear  that  if  Will  15 
Wimble  were  with  us,  and  saw  those  two  chairs,  it 
would  go  hard  but  he  would  get  a  tobacco-stopper  out 
of  one  or  t'other  of  them. 

Sir  Eoger,  in  the  next  place,  laid  his  hand  upon 
Edward  the  Third's  sword,  and,  leaning  upon  the  20 
pommel  of  it,  gave  us  the  whole  history  of  the  Black 
Prince;  concluding  that,  in  Sir  Eichard  Baker's  opin- 
ion, Edward  the  Third  was  one  of  the  greatest  princes 
that  ever  sat  upon  the  English  throne. 

We  were  then  shown  Edward  the  Confessor's  tomb,  25 


130  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS       [xxil 

upon  which  Sir  Eoger  acquainted  us  that  he  was  the 
first  who  touched  for  the  evil,°  and  afterwards  Henry 
the  Fourth's,  upon  which  he  shook  his  head,  and  told 
us  there  was  fine  reading  in  the  casualties  in  that 

5    reign. 

Our  conductor  then  pointed  to  that  monument  where 
there  is  the  figure  of  one  of  our  English  kings  without 
an  head;  and  upon  giving  us  to  know  that  the  head, 
which  was  of  beaten  silver,  had  been  stolen  away 

10  several  years  since,  "Some  Whig,  I'll  warrant  you,'' 
says  Sir  Eoger:  "you  ought  to  lock  up  your  kings 
better;  they  will  carry  off  the  body  too  if  you  don't 
take  care." 

The  glorious  names  of  Henry  the  Fifth  and  Queen 

15  Elizabeth  gave  the  Knight  great  opportunities  of  shin- 
ing and  of  doing  justice  to  Sir  Kichard  Baker,  °  who, 
as  our  Knight  observed  with  some  surprise,  had  a 
great  many  kings  in  him  whose  monuments  he  had 
not  seen  in  the  Abbey. 

20  For  my  own  part,  I  could  not  but  be  pleased  to  see 
the  Knight  show  such  an  honest  passion  for  the  glory 
of  his  country,  and  such  a  respectful  gratitude  to  the 
memory  of  its  princes. 

I  must  not  omit  that  the  benevolence  of  my  good 

25  old  friend,  which  flows  out  towards  every  one  he  con- 


Xxril]      SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  131 

verses  with,  made  liim  very  kind  to  our  interpreter, 
whom  he  looked  upon  as  an  extraordinary  man;  for 
which  reason  he  shook  him  by  the  hand  at  parting, 
telling  him  that  he  should  be  very  glad  to  see  him  at 
his  lodgings  in  Norfolk  Buildings,  and  talk  over  these  5 
matters  with  him  more  at  leisure. 

XXIII.     SIR   ROGER   AT  THE   THEATRE. 

My  friend  Sir  Eoger  de  Coverley,  when  we  last  met 
together  at  the  Club,  told  me  that  he  had  a  great  mind 
to  see  the  new  tragedy°  with  me,  assuring  me,  at  the 
same  time,  that  he  had  not  been  at  a  play  these  twenty  lo 
years.  ^'The  last  I  saw,"  said  Sir  Eoger,  "was  the 
*Committee,'°  which  I  should  not  have  gone  to  neither, 
had  not  I  been  told  beforehand  that  it  was  a  good 
Church  of  England  comedy.''  He  then  proceeded  to 
inquire  of  me  who  this  distressed  mother  was,  and,  ^5 
upon  hearing  that  she  was  Hector's  widow,  he  told 
me  that  her  husband  was  a  brave  man,  and  that  when 
he  was  a  school-boy,  he  had  read  his  life  at  the  end 
of  the  dictionary.  My  friend  asked  me,  in  the  next 
place,  if  there  would  not  be  some  danger  in  coming  20 
home  late,  in  case  the  Mohocks°  should  be  abroad. 
"I  assure  you,"  says  he,  "I  thought  I  had  fallen  into 
their  hands  last  night,  for  I  observed  two  or  three 


132  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS      [xxill 

lusty  black  men  that  followed  me  half  way  up  Fleet 
Street,  and  mended  their  pace  behind  me  in  propor- 
tion as  I  put  on  to  get  away  from  them.  You  must 
know,"  continued  the  Knight  with  a  smile,  '^  I  fancied 

5  they  had  a  mind  to  hunt  me,  for  I  remember  an  honest 
gentleman  in  my  neighborhood  who  was  served  such 
a  trick  in  King  Charles  the  Second's  time;  for  which 
reason  he  has  not  ventured  himself  in  town  ever  since. 
I  might  have  shown  them  very  good  sport  had  this 

10  been  their  design;  for,  as  I  am  an  old  fox-hunter,  I 
should  have  turned  and  dodged,  and  have  played  them 
a  thousand  tricks  they  had  never  seen  in  their  lives 
before."  Sir  Roger  added  that  if  these  gentlemen 
had  any  such  intention  they  did  not  succeed  very  well 

^5  in  it;  "for  I  threw  them  out,"  says  he,  "at  the  end 
of  Norfolk  Street,  where  I  doubled  the  corner  and  got 
shelter  in  my  lodgings  before  they  could  imagine  what 
was  become  of  me.  However,"  says  the  Knight,  "if 
Captain   Sentry  will  make  one  with   us    to-morrow 

20  night,  and  if  you  will  both  of  you  call  upon  me  about 
four  o'clock,  that  we  may  be  at  the  house  before  it  is 
full,  I  will  have  my  own  coach  in  readiness  to  attend 
you,  for  John  tells  me  he  has  got  the  fore  wheels 
mended." 

25       The  Captain,  who  did  not  fail  to  meet  me  there  at 


XXIII]      SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  133 

the  appointed  hour,  bid  Sir  Eoger  fear  nothing,  for 
that  he  had  put  on  the  same  sword  which  he  made  use 
of  at  the  battle  of  Steenkirk.  Sir  Eoger's  servants, 
and  among  the  rest  my  old  friend  the  butler,  had,  I 
found,  provided  themselves  with  good  oaken  plants  to  5 
attend  their  master  upon  this  occasion.  When  he  had 
placed  him  in  his  coach,  with  myself  at  his  left  hand, 
the  Captain  before  him,  and  his  butler  at  the  head  of 
his  footmen  in  the  rear,  we  convoyed  him  in  safety  to 
the  playhouse,  where,  after  having  marched  up  the  lo 
entry  in  good  order,  the  Captain  and  I  went  in  with 
him,  and  seated  him  betwixt  us  in  the  pit.  As  soon 
as  the  house  was  full,  and  the  candles  lighted,  my  old 
friend  stood  up  and  looked  about  him  with  that  pleas- 
ure which  a  mind  seasoned  with  humanity  naturally  ^5 
feels  in  itself,  at  the  sight  of  a  multitude  of  people 
who  seem  pleased  with  one  another,  and  partake  of 
the  same  common  entertainment.  I  could  not  but 
fancy  to  myself,  as  the  old  man  stood  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  pit,  that  he  made  a  very  proper  centre  to  a  20 
tragic  audience.  Upon  the  entering  of  Pyrrhus,  the 
Knight  told  me  that  he  did  not  believe  the  King  of 
France  himself  had  a  better  strut.  I  was,  indeed, 
very  attentive  to  my  old  friend's  remarks,  because  I 
looked  upon  them  as  a  piece  of  natural  criticism;  and  25 


134  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y   PAPERS     [xxill 

was  well  pleased  to  hear  him,  at  the  conclusion  of 
almost  every  scene,  telling  me  that  he  could  not 
imagine  how  the  play  would  end.  One  while  he  ap- 
peared much  concerned  for  Andromache ;  and  a  little 

5  while  after  as  much  for  Hermione;  and  was  extremely 
puzzled  to  think  what  would  become  of  Pyrrhus. 

When  Sir  Eoger  saw  Andromache's  obstinate  refusal 
to  her  lover's  importunities,  he  whispered  me  in  the 
ear,  that  he  was  sure  she  would  never  have  him;  to 

10  which  he  added,  with  a  more  than  ordinary  vehe- 
mence, "You  can't  imagine.  Sir,  what  'tis  to  have  to 
do  with  a  widow."  Upon  Pyrrhus  his  threatening 
afterwards  to  leave  her,  the  Knight  shook  his  head, 
and  muttered  to  himself,  "Ay,  do  if  you  can."     This 

15  part  dwelt  so  much  upon  my  friend's  imagination, 
that  at  the  close  of  the  third  act,  as  I  was  thinking 
of  something  else,  he  whispered  in  my  ear,  "These 
widows.  Sir,  are  the  most  perverse  creatures  in  the 
world.     But  pray,"  says  he,  "you  that  are  a  critic,  is 

20  this  play  according  to  your  dramatic  rules,  as  you  call 

them?     Should  your  people  in  tragedy  always  talk  to 

be  understood?    Why,  there  is  not  a  single  sentence 

in  this  play  that  I  do  not  know  the  meaning  of." 

The  fourth  act  very  luckily  begun  before  I  had  time 

25  to  give  the  old  gentleman  an  answer:  "Well,"  says 


XXIll]      SIR    ROGER    DE    COVE  RLE  Y    PAPERS  135 

the  Knight,  sitting  down  with  great  satisfaction,  "I 
suppose  we  are  now  to  see  Hector's  ghost."  He  then 
renewed  his  attention,  and,  from  time  to  time,  fell  a 
praising  the  widow.  He  made,  indeed,  a  little  mis- 
take as  to  one  of  her  pages,  whom  at  his  first  entering  5 
he  took  for  Astyanax ;  but  he  quickly  set  himself  right 
in  that  particular,  though,  at  the  same  time,  he  owned 
he  should  have  been  very  glad  to  have  seen  the  little 
boy,  "  who, "  says  he,  "  must  needs  be  a  very  fine  child 
by  the  account  that  is  given  of  him."  Upon  Her-  lo 
mione's  going  off  with  a  menace  to  Pyrrhus,  the  audi- 
ence gave  a  loud  clap,  to  which  Sir  Eoger  added,  "  On 
my  word,  a  notable  young  baggage !  " 

As  there  was  a  very  remarkable  silence  and  stillness 
in  the  audience  during  the  whole  action,  it  was  natural  15 
for  them  to  take  the  opportunity  of  these  intervals 
between  the  acts  to  express  their  opinion  of  the  players 
and  of  their  respective  parts.  Sir  Eoger  hearing  a 
cluster  of  them  praise  Orestes,  struck  in  with  them, 
and  told  them  that  he  thought  his  friend  Py lades  was  20 
a  very  sensible  man;  as  they  were  afterwards  applaud- 
ing Pyrrhus,  Sir  Eoger  put  in  a  second  time:  "And 
let  me  tell  you,"  says  he,  "  though  he  speaks  but  little, 
I  like  the  old  fellow  in  whiskers  as  well  as  any  of 
them."     Captain  Sentry  seeing  two  or  three  wags,  25 


136  SIR    ROGER  DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS      [xxill 

who  sat  near  us,  lean  with  an  attentive  ear  towards 
Sir  Eoger,  and  fearing  lest  they  should  smoke  the 
Knight,  plucked  him  by  the  elbow,  and  whispered 
something  in  his  ear,  that  lasted  till  the  opening  of 

5  the  fifth  act.  The  Knight  was  wonderfully  attentive 
to  the  account  which  Orestes  gives  of  Pyrrhus  his  death, 
and  at  the  conclusion  of  it,  told  me  it  was  such  a  bloody 
piece  of  work  that  he  was  glad  it  was  not  done  upon 
the  stage.    Seeing  afterwards  Orestes  in  his  raving  fit, 

10  he  grew  more  than  ordinary  serious,  and  took  occasion 
to  moralize  (in  his  way)  upon  an  evil  conscience,  add- 
ing, that  Orestes,  in  his  madness,  looked  as  if  he  saw 
something. 

As  we  were  the  first  that  came  into  the  house,  so  we 

15  were  the  last  that  went  out  of  it;  being  resolved  to 
have  a  clear  passage  for  our  old  friend,  whom  we  did 
not  care  to  venture  among  the  jostling  of  the  crowd. 
Sir  Eoger  went  out  fully  satisfied  with  his  entertain- 
ment, and  we  guarded  him  to  his  lodgings  in  the  same 

20  manner  that  we  brought  him  to  the  playhouse ;  being 
highly  pleased,  for  my  own  part,  not  only  with  the 
performance  of  the  excellent  piece  which  had  been 
presented,  but  with  the  satisfaction  which  it  had  given 
to  the  good  old  man. 


XXI v]      SIM    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS  137 


XXIV.     WILL   HONEYCOMB'S   LOVE-MAKING. 

As  we  were  at  the  Club  last  night,  I  observed  that 
my  friend  Sir  Roger,  contrary  to  his  usual  custom, 
sat  very  silent,  and  instead  of  minding  what  was  said 
by  the  company,  was  whistling  to  himself  in  a  very 
thoughtful  mood,  and  playing  with  a  cork.  I  jogged  5 
Sir  Andrew  Freeport,  who  sat  between  us ;  and  as  we 
were  both  observing  him,  we  saw  the  Knight  shake 
his  head,  and  heard  him  say  to  himself,  "  A  foolish 
woman  !  I  can't  believe  it."  Sir  Andrew  gave  him  a 
gentle  pat  upon  the  shoulder,  and  offered  to  lay  him  a  lo 
bottle  of  wine  that  he  was  thinking  of  the  Widow. 
My  old  friend  started,  and  recovering  out  of  his  brown 
study,  told  Sir  Andrew  that  once  in  his  life  he  had 
been  in  the  right.  In  short,  after  some  little  hesita- 
tion. Sir  Roger  told  us  in  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  that  15 
he  had  just  received  a  letter  from  his  steward,  which 
acquainted  him  that  his  old  rival  and  antagonist  in 
the  county.  Sir  David  Dundrum,  had  been  making  a 
visit  to  the  Widow.  '^  However,"  says  Sir  Roger,  "  I 
can  never  think  that  she'll  have  a  man  that's  half  a  20 
year  older  than  I  am,  and  a  noted  Republican  into  the 
bargain." 

Will  Honeycomb,  who  looks  upon  love  as  his  par- 


138  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY   PAPERS      [xxiV 

ticular  province,  interrupting  our  friend  with  a  jaunty 
laugh;  "I  thought,  Knight/'  says  he,  "thou  hadst 
lived  long  enough  in  the  world  not  to  pin  thy  happi- 
ness upon  one  that  is  a  woman  and  a  widow.     I  think 

5  that  without  vanity  I  may  pretend  to  know  as  much 
of  the  female  world  as  any  man  in  Great  Britain, 
though  the  chief  of  my  knowledge  consists  in  this, 
that  they  are  not  to  be  known.''  Will  immediately, 
with  his  usual  fluency,  rambled  into  an  account  of  his 

10  own  amours.  "  I  am  now,"  says  he,  "  upon  the  verge 
of  fifty  "  (though,  by  the  way,  we  all  knew  he  w^as 
turned  of  threescore).  "You  may  easily  guess,"  con- 
tinued Will,  "that  I  have  not  lived  so  long  in  the 
world  without  having  had  some  thoughts  of  settling 

15  in  it,  as  the  phrase  is.  To  tell  you  truly,  I  have  sev- 
eral times  tried  my  fortune  that  way,  though  I  can't 
much  boast  of  my  success. 

"  I  made  my  first  addresses  to  a  young  lady  in  the 
country ;  but  when  I  thought  things  were  pretty  well 

20  drawing  to  a  conclusion,  her  father  happening  to  hear 

that  I  had  formerly  boarded  with  a  surgeon,  the  old 

put°  forbid  me  his  house,  and  within  a  fortnight  after 

married  his  daughter  to  a  fox-hunter  in  the  neighborhood. 

"  I  made  my  next  applications  to  a  widow,  and  at- 

25  tacked  her  so  briskly,  that  I  thought  myself  within 


XXI v]      SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  139 

a  fortnight  of  her.  As  I  waited  upon  her  one  morn- 
ing, she  told  me  that  she  intended  to  keep  her  ready 
money  and  jointure  in  her  own  hand,  and  desired  me 
to  call  upon  her  attorney  in  Lyon's  Inn,  who  would 
adjust  with  me  what  it  was  proper  for  me  to  add  to  5 
it.  I  was  so  rebuffed  by  this  overture,  that  I  never 
inquired  either  for  her  or  her  attorney  afterwards. 

"A  few  months  after  I  addressed  myself  to  a  young 
lady  who  was  an  only  daughter,  and  of  a  good  family : 
I  danced  with  her  at  several  balls,  squeezed  her  by  10 
the  hand,  said  soft  things  to  her,  and,  in  short,  made 
no  doubt  of  her  heart ;  and,  though  my  fortune  was 
not  equal  to  hers,  I  was  in  hopes  that  her  fond  father 
would  not  deny  her  the  man  she  had  fixed  her  affec- 
tions upon.  But  as  I  went  one  day  to  the  house  in  15 
order  to  break  the  matter  to  him,  I  found  the  whole 
family  in  confusion,  and  heard,  to  my  unspeakable 
surprise,  that  Miss  Jenny  was  that  very  morning  run 
away  with  the  butler. 

"  I  then  courted  a  second  widow,  and  am  at  a  loss  20 
to  this  day  how  I  came  to  miss  her,  for  she  had  often 
commended  my  person  and  behavior.  Her  maid,  in- 
deed, told  me  one  day  that  her  mistress  had  said  she 
never  saw  a  gentleman  with  such  a  spindle  pair  of  legs 
as  Mr.  Honeycomb.  25 


140  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS      [xxiV 

"After  this  I  laid  siege  to  four  heiresses  succes- 
sively, and  being  a  handsome  young  dog  in  those  days, 
quickly  made  a  breach  in  their  hearts;  but  I  don't 
know  how  it  came  to  pass,  though  I  seldom  failed  of 

5  getting  the  daughters'  consent,  I  could  never  in  my 
life  get  the  old  people  on  my  side. 

"  I  could  give  you  an  account  of  a  thousand  other 
unsuccessful  attempts,  particularly  of  one  which  I 
made  some  years  since  upon  an  old  woman,  whom  I 

10  had  certainly  borne  away  with  flying  colors,  if  her 
relations  had  not  come  pouring  in  to  her  assistance 
from  all  parts  of  England;  nay,  I  believe  I  should 
have  got  her  at  last,  had  she  not  been  carried  off  by 
an  hard  frost." 

15  As  Will's  transitions  are  extremely  quick,  he  turned 
from  Sir  Eoger,  and,  applying  himself  to  me,  told  me 
there  was  a  passage  in  the  book°  I  had  considered 
last  Saturday,  which  deserved  to  be  writ  in  letters  of 
gold ;  and  taking  out  a  pocket  Milton,  read  the  f ollow- 

20  ing  lines,°  which  are  part  of  one  of  Adam's  speeches 
to  Eve  after  the  fall :  — 

•    Oh  !  why  did  God, 
Creator  wise,  that  peopled  highest  heav'n 
With  spirits  masculine,  create  at  last 
^5  This  novelty  on  earth,  this  fair  defect 


XXV]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS  141 

Of  Nature,  and  not  fill  the  world  at  once 

With  men,  as  angels,  without  feminine, 

Or  find  some  other  way  to  generate 

Mankind  ?    This  mischief  had  not  then  befall'n, 

And  more  that  shall  befall ;  innumerable  5 

Disturbances  on  earth  through  female  snares, 

And  straight  conjunction  with  this  sex :  for  either 

He  never  shall  find  out  fit  mate,  but  such 

As  some  misfortune  brings  him,  or  mistake  : 

Or,  whom  he  wishes  most  shall  seldom  gain,  10 

Through  her  perverseness  ;  but  shall  see  her  gain'd 

By  a  far  worse  ;  or  if  she  love,  withheld 

By  parents  ;  or  his  happiest  choice  too  late 

Shall  meet,  already  link'd  and  wedlock  bound 

To  a  fell  adversary,  his  hate  or  shame  ;  15 

Which  infinite  calamity  shall  cause 

To  human  life,  and  household  peace  confound. ° 

Sir  Eoger  listened  to  this  passage  with  great  atten- 
tion, and  desiring  Mr.  Honeycomb  to  fold  down  a  leaf 
at  the  place,  and  lend  him  his  book,  the  Knight  put  20 
it  up  in  his  pocket,  and  told  us  that  he  would  read 
over  those  verses  again  before  he  went  to  bed. 

XXV.     SIR  ROGER    AT  VAUXHALL   GARDENS. 

As  I  was  sitting  in  my  chamber  and  thinking  on  a 
subject  for  my  next  "Spectator,"  I  heard  two  or  three 
irregular  bounces  at  my  landlady's  door,  and  upon  the  25 


142  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS        [xxv 

opening  of  it,  a  loud  cheerful  voice  inquiring  whether 
the  philosopher  was  at  home.  The  child  who  went 
to  the  door  answered  very  innocently,  that  he  did  not 
lodge  there.     I  immediately  recollected  that  it  was 

5  my  good  friend  Sir  Eoger's  voice;  and  that  I  had 
promised  to  go  with  him  on  the  water  to  Spring  Gar- 
den, in  case  it  proved  a  good  evening.  The  Knight 
put  me  in  mind  of  my  promise  from  the  bottom  of  the 
staircase,  but  told  me  that  if  I  was  speculating  he 

lo  would  stay  below  till  I  had  done.  Upon  my  coming 
down,  I  found  all  the  children  of  the  family  got  about 
my  old  friend,  and  my  landlady  herself,  who  is  a 
notable  prating  gossip,  engaged  in  a  conference  with 
him,  being  mightily  pleased  with  his  stroking  her 

15  little  boy  upon  the  head,  and  bidding  him  be  a  good 
child,  and  mind  his  book. 

We  were  no  sooner  come  to  the  Temple  Stairs,  but 
we  were  surrounded  with  a  crowd  of  watermen,  offer- 
ing us  their  respective  services.     Sir  Eoger,   after 

20  having  looked  about  him  very  attentively,  spied  one 
with  a  wooden  leg,  and  immediately  gave  him  orders 
to  get  his  boat  ready.  As  we  were  walking  towards 
it,  "You  must  know,''  says  Sir  Eoger,  "I  never  make 
use  of  anybody  to  row  me,  that  has  not  either  lost  a 

25  leg  or  an  arm.     I  would  rather  bate  him  a  few  strokes 


XXV]        SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  143 

of  his  oar  than  not  employ  an  honest  man  that  has 
been  wounded  in  the  Queen's  service.  If  I  was  a 
lord  or  a  bishop,  and  kept  a  barge,  I  would  not  put  a 
fellow  in  my  livery  that  had  not  a  wooden  leg." 

My  old  friend,   after  having  seated   himself,   and    5 
trimmed  the  boat  with  his  coachman,  who,  being  a 
very  sober  man,  always  serves  for  ballast  on  these  oc- 
casions, we  made  the  best  of  our  way  for  Vauxhall.° 
Sir  Eoger  obliged  the  waterman  to  give  us  the  history 
of  his  right  leg,  and  hearing  that  he  had  left  it  at  La  10 
Hogue,  with  many  particulars  which  passed  in  that 
glorious  action,  the  Knight,  in  the  triumph  of  his 
heart,  made  several  reflections  on  the  greatness  of  the 
British  nation;  as,  that  one  Englishman  could  beat 
three  Frenchmen;  that  we  could  never  be  in  danger  15 
of  Popery  so  long  as  we  took  care  of  our  fleet;  that 
the  Thames  was  the  noblest  river  in  Europe;   that 
London  Bridge  was  a  greater  piece  of  work  than  any 
of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  world :  with  many  other 
honest  prejudices  which  naturally  cleave  to  the  heart  20 
of  a  true  Englishman. 

After  some  short  pause,  the  old  Knight  turning 
about  his  head  twice  or  thrice,  to  take  a  survey  of  this 
great  Metropolis,  bid  me  observe  how  thick  the  city 
was  set  with  churches,  and  that  there  was  scarce  a  25 


144  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET  PAPERS       [xxv 

single  steeple  on  this  side  Temple  Bar.  "A  most 
heathenish  sight!"  says  Sir  Eoger;  "there  is  no  re- 
ligion at  this  end  of  the  town.  The  fifty  new 
churches°  will  very  much  mend  the   prospect;   but 

5    church  work  is  slow,  church  work  is  slow!  " 

I  da  not  remember  I  have  anywhere  mentioned,  in 
Sir  Eoger's  character,  his  custom  of  saluting  every- 
body that  passes  by  him  with  a  good-morrow  or  a 
good-night.     This  the  old  man  does  out  of  the  over- 

10  flowings  of  his  humanity,  though  at  the  same  time  it 
renders  him  so  popular  among  all  his  country  neigh- 
bors, that  it  is  thought  to  have  gone  a  good  way  in 
making  him  once  or  twice  knight  of  the  shire.  He 
cannot  forbear  this  exercise  of  benevolence  even  in 

15  town,  when  he  meets  with  any  one  in  his  morning  or 
evening  walk.     It  broke  from  him  to  several  boats 

\  that  passed  by  us  upon  the  water;  but  to  the  Knight's 
great  surprise,  as  he  gave  the  good-night  to  two  or 
three  young  fellows  a  little  before  our  landing,  one  of 

20  them,  instead  of  returning  the  civility,  asked  us  what 
queer  old  put  we  had  in  the  boat,  with  a  great  deal 
of  the  like  Thames  ribaldry.  Sir  Eoger  seemed  a  little 
shocked  at  first,  but  at  length,  assuming  a  face  of 
magistracy,  told  us  that  if  he  were  a  Middlesex  jus- 

25  tice,  he  would  make  such  vagrants  know  that  Her 


XXV]        SIR    ROGER   DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  145 

Majesty's  subjects  were  no  more  to  be  abused  by  water 
than  by  land. 

We  were  now  arrived  at  Spring  Garden,  which  is 
exquisitely  pleasant  at  this  time  of  year.  When  I 
considered  the  fragrancy  of  the  walks  and  bowers,  5 
with  the  choirs  of  birds  that  sang  upon  the  trees,  and 
the  loose  tribe  of  people  that  walked  under  their 
shades,  I  could  not  but  look  upon  the  place  as  a  kind 
of  Mahometan  paradise.  Sir  Koger  told  me  it  put 
him  in  mind  of  a  little  coppice  by  his  house  in  the  10 
country,  which  his  chaplain  used  to  call  an  aviary  of 
nightingales.  "You  must  understand,''  says  the 
Knight,  "  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  that  pleases 
a  man  in  love  so  much  as  your  nightingale.  Ah,  Mr. 
Spectator!  the  many  moonlight  nights  that  I  have  15 
walked  by  myself,  and  thought  on  the  Widow  by  the 
music  of  the  nightingales !  "  He  here  fetched  a  deep 
sigh,  and  was  falling  into  a  fit  of  musing,  when  a 
mask,  who  came  behind  him,  gave  him  a  gentle  tap 
upon  the  shoulder,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  drink  20 
a  bottle  of  mead  with  her.  But  the  Knight  being 
startled  at  so  unexpected  a  familiarity,  and  displeased 
to  be  interrupted  in  his  thoughts  of  the  Widow,  told 
her  she  was  a  wanton  baggage,  and  bid  her  go  about 
her  business.  25 


146  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS       [xxvi 

We  concluded  our  walk  with  a  glass  of  Burton  ale 
and  a  slice  of  hung  beef.  When  we  had  done  eating 
ourselves,  the  Knight  called  a  waiter  to  him,  and  bid 
him  carry  the  remainder  to  the  waterman  that  had 
but  one  leg.  I  perceived  the  fellow  stared  upon  him 
at  the  oddness  of  the  message,  and  was  going  to  be 
saucy;  upon  which  I  ratified  the  Knight's  commands 
with  a  peremptory  look. 


XXVI.  DEATH  OF  SIR  ROGER  DE  COVERLEY.° 

We  last  night  received  a  piece  of  ill  news  at  our 

13  Club,  which  very  sensibly  afilicted  every  one  of  us. 

I  question   not  but  my  readers  themselves  will  be 

troubled  at  the  hearing  of  it.     To  keep  them  no  longer 

in  suspense.  Sir  Eoger  de  Coverley  is  dead.     He 

departed  this  life  at  his  house  in  the  country,  after 

15  a  few  weeks'  sickness.     Sir  Andrew  Freeport  has  a 

letter  from  one  of  his  correspondents  in  those  parts, 

that  informs  him  the  old  man  caught  a  cold  at  the 

County-Sessions,  as  he  was  very  warmly  promoting  an 

address  of  his  own  penning,  in  which  he  succeeded 

20  according  to  his  wishes.      But  this  particular  comes 

from  a  Whig-Justice  of  Peace,  who  was  always  Sir 

Eoger's  enemy  and  antagonist.     I  have  letters  both 


XXVl]      SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS  147 

from  the  cliaplam  and  Captain  Sentry  which  mention 
nothing  of  it,  but  are  filled  with  many  particulars  to 
the  honor  of  the  good  old  man.  I  have  likewise  a 
letter  from  the  butler,  who  took  so  much  care  of  me 
last  summer  when  I  was  at  the  Knight's  house.  As  5 
my  friend  the  butler  mentions,  in  the  simplicity 
of  his  heart,  several  circumstances  the  others  have 
passed  over  in  silence,  I  shall  give  my  reader  a  copy 
of  his  letter,  without  any  alteration  or  diminution. 

"  Honoured  Sir,  10 

"  Knowing  that  you  was  my  old  Master's  good 
Eriend,  I  could  not  forbear  sending  you  the  melan- 
choly News  of  his  Death,  which  has  afflicted  the 
whole  Country,  as  well  as  his  poor  Servants,  who 
loved  him,  I  may  say,  better  than  we  did  our  Lives.  15 
I  am  afraid  he  caught  his  Death  the  last  County  Ses- 
sions, where  he  would  go  to  see  Justice  done  to  a  poor 
Widow  Woman,  and  her  Fatherless  Children,  that  had 
been  wronged  by  a  neighbouring  Gentleman ;  for  you 
know.  Sir,  my  good  Master  was  always  the  poor  Man's  20 
Friend.  Upon  his  coming  home,  the  first  Complaint 
he  made  was,  that  he  had  lost  his  Eoast-Beef  Stomach, 
not  being  able  to  touch  a  Sirloin,  which  was  served  up 
according  to  Custom ;  and  you  know  he  used  to  take 


148  SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS      [xxvi 

great  Delight  in  it.  From  that  time  forward  he  grew 
worse  and  worse,  but  still  kept  a  good  Heart  to  the 
last.  Indeed  we  were  once  in  great  Hope  of  his  Ee- 
covery,  upon  a  kind  Message  that  was  sent  him  from 

5  the  Widow  Lady  whom  he  had  made  love  to  the  Forty 
last  Years  of  his  Life ;  but  this  only  proved  a  Lighten- 
ing before  Death.  He  has  bequeathed  to  this  Lady, 
as  a  token  of  his  Love,  a  great  Pearl  Necklace,  and  a 
Couple  of  Silver  Bracelets  set  with  Jewels,  which  be- 

10  longed  to  my  good  old  Lady  his  Mother  :  He  has  be- 
queathed the  fine  white  Gelding,  that  he  used  to  ride 
a  hunting  upon,  to  his  Chaplain,  because  he  thought 
he  would  be  kind  to  him,  and  has  left  you  all  his 
Books.     He  has,  moreover,  bequeathed  to  the  Chap- 

15  lain  a  very  pretty  Tenement  with  good  Lands  about 
it.  It  being  a  very  cold  Day  when  he  made  his  Will, 
he  left  for  Mourning,  to  every  Man  in  the  Parish,  a 
great  Frize-Coat,  and  to  every  Woman  a  black  Eiding- 
hood.     It  was  a  most  moving  Sight  to  see  him  take 

20  leave  of  his  poor  Servants,  commending  us  all  for  our 
Fidelity,  whilst  we  were  not  able  to  speak  a  Word  for 
weeping.  As  we  most  of  us  are  grown  Gray-headed 
in  our  Dear  Master's  Service,  he  has  left  us  Pensions 
and  Legacies,  which  we  may  live  very  comfortably 

25  upon,  the  remaining  part  of  our  Days.     He  has  be- 


XXVl]      SIR    ROGER    BE    COVERLET   PAPERS  149 

queath'd  a  great  deal  more  in  Charity,  which  is  not 
yet  come  to  my  Knowledge,  and  it  is  peremptorily 
said  in  the  Parish,  that  he  has  left  Mony  to  build  a 
Steeple  to  the  Church ;  for  he  was  heard  to  say  some 
time  ago,  that  if  he  lived  two  Years  longer,  Coverly  5 
Church  should  have  a  Steeple  to  it.  The  Chaplain 
tells  every  body  that  he  made  a  very  good  End,  and 
never  speaks  of  him  without  Tears.  He  was  buried, 
according  to  his  own  Directions,  among  the  Family  of 
the  Coverly^ s,  on  the  Left  Hand  of  his  father  Sir  Arthur.  10 
The  Coffin  was  carried  by  Six  of  his  Tenants,  and  the 
Pall  held  up  by  Six  of  the  Quorum :  The  whole  Parish 
followed  the  Corps  with  heavy  Hearts,  and  in  their 
Mourning  Suits,  the  Men  in  Prize,  and  the  Women  in 
Riding-Hoods.  Captain  Sentry,  my  Master's  Nephew,  15 
has  taken  Possession  of  the  Hall-House,  and  the  whole 
Estate.  When  my  old  Master  saw  him  a  little  before 
his  Death,  he  shook  him  by  the  Hand,  and  wished  him 
Joy  of  the  Estate  which  was  falling  to  him,  desiring 
him  only  to  make  good  Use  of  it,  and  to  pay  the  several  20 
Legacies,  and  the  Gifts  of  Charity  which  he  told  him 
he  had  left  as  Quitrents  upon  the  Estate.  The  Cap- 
tain truly  seems  a  courteous  Man,  though  he  says  but 
little.  He  makes  much  of  those  whom  my  Master 
loved,  and  shows  great  Kindness  to  the  old  House-dog,  25 


150  SIE    ROGER    DE    COVERLET   PAPERS      [xxvi 

that  you  know  my  poor  Master  was  so  fond  of.  It 
would  have  gone  to  your  Heart  to  have  heard  the 
Moans  the  dumb  Creature  made  on  the  Day  of  my 
Master's  Death.     He  has  ne'er  joyed  himself  since ; 

5    no  more  has  any  of  us.     'Twas  the  melancholiest  Day 
for  the  poor  People  that  ever  happened  in  Worcester- 
shire,    This  being  all  from, 
"  Honoured  Sir, 
"  Your  most  Sorrowful  Servant, 

10  "  Edward  Biscuit. 

"  P.  S.  My  Master  desired,  some  Weeks  before  he 
died,  that  a  Book  which  comes  up  to  you  by  the  Carrier 
should  be  given  to  Sir  Andrew  Freejjort,  in  his  Name.'' 

This  letter,  notwithstanding  the  poor  butler's  man- 
13  ner  of  writing  it,  gave  us  such  an  idea  of  our  good  old 
friend,  that  upon  the  reading  of  it  there  was  not  a  dry 
eye  in  the  Club.  Sir  Andrew  opening  the  book,  found 
it  to  be  a  collection  of  Acts  of  Parliament.  There 
was  in  particular  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  with  some 
20  passages  in  it  marked  by  Sir  Eoger's  own  hand.  Sir 
Andrew  found  that  they  related  to  two  or  three  points, 
which  he  had  disputed  with  Sir  Eoger  the  last  time  he 
appeared  at  the  Club.     Sir  Andrew,  who  would  have 


XXVl]       SIR    ROGER    DE    COVERLEY  PAPERS  151 

been  merry  at  such  an  incident  on  another  occasion, 
at  the  sight  of  the  old  man's  hand-writing  burst  into 
tears,  and  put  the  book  into  his  pocket.  Captain 
Sentry  informs  me,  that  the  Knight  has  left  rings 
and  mourning  for  every  one  in  the  Club. 


CONTRIBUTOES  TO  THE  SPECTATOR 

Many  people  besides  Addison  and  Steele  wrote  at  various 

times  for  the  Spectator.     A  list  of  names,  with  number  of 
essays  contributed,  is  here  given  :  — 

Addison 276 

Steele 249 

Budgell  .        .        ...        .        .        .35 

Hughes  .         . 10 

Byrom 6 

Grove 4 

Pearce 2 

Tickell 2 

Parnell 2 

Pope 2 

Henley  ........  1 

Barr       ........  1 

Francham 1 

Anonymous  papers 46 

Total 636 

163 


AIDS  TO   THE   STUDY   OF   THE  DE  COVEE- 
LEY  PAPEES 

FOR  USE   OF  TEACHERS  AND  PUPILS 

Life  of  Richard  Steele.     Austin  Dobson. 

Life  of  Joseph  Addison.     W.  J.  Courthope. 

Essay  on  Addison.     T.  B.  Macaulay. 

Essays  of  Joseph  Addison.    Edited  by  J.  R.  Green. 

The  Spectator.     Edited  by  Henry  Morley. 

Social  Life  in  the  Reign  of  Queen  Anne.     John  Ashton. 

Literary  Landmarks  of  London.     Laurence  Hutton. 

English  Lands,  Letters,  and  Kings.     Donald  G.  Mitchell. 

FOR   USE   OF   TEACHERS 

Sir  Richard  Steele  (Vol.  11.).     John  Forster. 
Selections  from  Steele.     Edited  by  Austin  Dobson. 
Selections  from  Addison.     Edited  by  T.  Arnold. 
Lives  of  English  Poets.     Samuel  Johnson. 
Introduction  to  English  Literature.     Henry  S.  Pancoast. 
History  of  Eighteenth  Century  Literature.     Edmund  Gosse. 
Manual  of  English  Literature.     Thomas  Arnold. 
English  Literature  in  the  Eighteenth  Century.     Thos.  S.  Perry. 
English  Literature.     Stopford  A.  Brooke. 
Reign  of  Queen  Anne  (Vol.  L).     P.  H.  Stanhope. 
History  of  Henry  Esmond.     Wm.  M.  Thackeray. 
The  English  Humorists.     Wm.  M.  Thackeray. 
Short  History  of  English  Literature.     George  Saintsbury. 

164 


NOTES 


The  aim  of  these  notes  is  not  to  take  the  place  of  the  teacher, 
nor  to  deprive  the  pupil  of  the  benefits  of  thinking.  The  in- 
tention is  to  give  only  those  explanations  that  may  be  difficult  to 
obtain,  and  which  the  pupil  should  know  before  coming  to  class ; 
therefore  all  matter  is  avoided  which  tends  to  lead  away  from 
the  immediate  subject  under  consideration.  It  is  left  to  the 
teacher  to  use  his  own  discretion  in  estimating  the  advisability 
of  dwelling  on  grammatical  errors  and  peculiar  expressions  in 
use  during  Addison's  time. 

PAPER  No.   I. 

Although  Addison  is  describing  an  imaginary  character,  yet 
the  likeness  to  himself  is  apparent.  The  student  should  trace 
points  of  similarity. 

Page  3,  line  7.  learned  tongues.     Latin  and  Greek. 

Page  3,  line  17.  controversies  of  some  great  men.  Allusion 
to  a  work,  Pyramidographia^  or  a  Discourse  of  the  Pyramids  of 
Egypt^  by  a  Persian  scholar  named  John  Greaves.  (See  Diction- 
ary of  National  Biography^  Vol.  XXIII.,  for  life  of  Greaves.) 

165 


156  NOTES 

Page  4,  line  5.  Will's.  Coffee-house  named  from  its  proprie- 
tor, William  Urwin.  It  included  two  buildings  in  Covent  Gar- 
den, one  facing  Bow  Street  and  the  adjoining  one  Russell  Street. 
Its  popularity  began  when  Dryden  frequented  it,  and  was  de- 
clining in  Spectator's  time,  although  it  was  still  the  gathering 
place  for  literary  men. 

Page  4,  line  8.  Child's.  Coffee-house  which  stood  in  St. 
Paul's  Churchyard,  but  the  exact  location  is  not  known.  It  was 
frequented  by  physicians,  philosophers,  and  clergy. 

Page  4,  line  9.  Postman.  A  penny  paper  which  was  very 
popular  at  that  time.     It  was  edited  by  a  Frenchman,  M.  Fonvive. 

Page  4,  line  11.  St.  James's  coffee-house.  On  St.  James 
Street  overlooking  Pall  Mall.  Here  Whig  politicians  congregated, 
and  here  Swift  "  became  a  notable  figure."  (See  Henry  Craik's 
Life  of  Swift,  Chap.  V.)     This  building  was  removed  in  1806. 

Page  4,  line  14.  Grecian.  This  coffee-house  —  one  of  the 
oldest  in  London  —  was  frequented  by  lawyers  and  scholars, 
and  was  the  scene  of  many  learned  disputes.  The  site,  in 
Devereux  Court,  Strand,  is  now  marked  by  Eldon  Chambers. 

Page  4,  line  14.  Cocoa-Tree.  Chocolate-house  as  distinc- 
tively Tory  as  the  St.  James  was  Whig.  It  was  located  at 
No.  64,  St.  James  Street,  Piccadilly,  and  is  still  standing. 

Page  4,  line  19.  Jonathan's.  Coffee-house  in  Change  Alley, 
where  the  lower  class  of  stock-jobbers  were  found. 

Page  5,  line  23.  print  myself  out.  Put  my  thoughts  and 
opinions  on  paper. 

Page  7,  line  11.   Little  Britain.    Small  neighborhood  in  cen- 


J}^OTES  157 

tre  of  London,  just  east  of  Christ's  Hospital.  It  was  called  Lit- 
tle Britain  because  it  was  formerly  the  residence  of  the  Dukes 
of  Brittany.  In  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century  it 
was  a  favorite  mart  for  booksellers.  (For  further  information 
see  ''Little  Britain,"  Irving's  Sketch  Book.  New  York:  Sil- 
ver, Burdett  &  Co.,  1896.) 

PAPER  No.  II. 

These  characters  represent  typical  men  of  the  times,  and  it 
is  not  worth  while  to  inquire  what  particular  persons  Addison 
may  have  had  in  mind.     It  is  mere  conjecture,  at  most. 

Page  7,  line  20.  country-dance.  In  this  dance  partners, 
ranged  in  rows,  face  each  other  and  in  couples  dance  down  the  line 
and  back  to  places.    It  is  somewhat  similar  to  the  Virginia  reel. 

Page  8,  line  9.  Soho  Square.  South  side  of  Oxford  Street, 
was  then  the  centre  of  fashionable  life.  It  now  marks  the 
eastern  limit  of  the  social  world  of  London. 

Page  8,  line  12.  fine  gentleman.  Notice  the  qualities  which 
entitled  him  to  the  term. 

Page  8,  line  14.     Lord  Rochester  and  Sir  George  Etherege. 

Dissolute  wits  of  the  time.  The  latter  was  then  well  known  as 
a  dramatist,  but  to  us  his  greatest  merit  consists  in  his  being 
the  originator  of  ' '  the  school  of  prose  comedy,  which  reached 
its  highest  point  in  Congreve  and  ended  with  Sheridan."  (For 
further  information  see  Introduction  to  Works  of  Sir  George 
Etherege,  by  A.  Wilson  Verity.  London :  John  C.  Nimmo, 
14  King  William  Street,  Strand,  1888.) 


158  NOTES 

Page  8,  line  15.  Bully  Dawson.  A  man  of  low  morality 
who  aped  the  higher  classes  and  tried  to  get  into  their  society. 

Page  9,  line  13.  Game-Act.  Poaching  was  so  common  that 
it  was  necessary  to  pass  laws  for  the  preservation  of  game. 

Page  9,  line  16.  Inner  Temple.  One  of  the  four  Inns  occu- 
pied by  legal  societies  which  have  the  exclusive  right  of  calling 
candidates  to  the  bar.  It  is  called  Inner  Temple  to  distinguish  it 
from  the  Middle  and  the  Outer  Temples.  The  fourth  of  these 
"Inns  of  Court"  is  called  Gray's  Inn.  They  are  all  situated 
in  what  is  called  "The  City,"  a  tract  between  the  "  East  End  " 
and  the  "  West  End."  (Instead  of  Outer  Temple,  Lincoln's 
Inn  now  makes  the  third. ) 

Page  9,  line  23.  Aristotle  and  Longinus  were  versed  in  art ; 
Littleton  and  Coke  in  law. 

Page  10,  line  9.   wit.     Intellectual  ability. 

Page  10,  line  18.  Plays  began  at  five  or  six  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon. 

Page  10,  line  22.  Rose.  A  tavern  in  Russell  Street,  near 
Drury  Lane  Theatre,  and  consequently  much  visited  by 
play-goers. 

Page  12,  line  4.   Captain  Sentry.     See  Spectator^  No.  517. 

Page  15,  line  17.  chamber-counsellor.  A  chamber-counsellor 
gives  advice  only  in  private. 

PAPER   No.  III. 
Page  17,  line  7.     Lincoln' s-Inn-Fields.     A  square  or  garden 
on  the  south  side  of  High  Ilolborn  Street,  not  far  from  the  Inner 
and  the  Middle  Temples.     It  was  the  scene  of  much  lawlessness 


NOTES  159 

and  rioting  till  1735,  when  it  was  railed  off  and  became  more 
reputable.  Now  it  is  a  fine  park,  with  imposing  buildings 
fronting  it. 

Page  19,  line  4.  Sir  Richard  Blackmore  says,  etc.  Addison 
quotes  from  Sir  Richard  Blackmore's  poem,  The  Creation^  which 
at  that  time  was  unpublished. 

PAPER   No.   IV. 

Page  23,  line  16.  province  for  satire.  A  theme  which  fur- 
nishes to  the  writer  abundant  material  for  the  exercise  of  his  wit. 

Page  23,  line  19.  HoracCf  Juvenal,  Boileau.  Three  satirical 
poets.  Horace  ((35  b.c.-8  a.d.)  and  Juvenal  (60-140  a.d.)  were 
Romans;  Boileau  (1636-1711)  a  Frenchman. 

Page  27,  line  1.  Punch.  Any  man  who  places  himself  be- 
fore the  public.  Punch  was  the  chief  character  in  the  puppet 
show  Punch  and  Judy.  (See  use  of  "Punchinello"  in  Spec- 
tator^ No.  14.) 

PAPER  No.  V. 

See  Macaulay's  History  of  England,  Vol.  I.,  Chap.  III.,  for 
account  of  country  gentlemen  and  country  clergy. 

Page  31,  line  18.  present  of  all  the  good  sermons.  It  was  a 
common  practice  of  the  clergy  to  read  sermons  written  by  other 
people. 

PAPER  No.  VI. 

Page  35,  line  13.   so  good  an  husband.     So  economical. 

Page  37,  line  21.    the  dress.     Indication  of  service. 


160  NOTES 

PAPER  No.  VII. 

Page  89,  line  12.  younger  brother  to  a  baronet.  The  oldest 
son  always  inherited  the  estate  of  his  father ;  and  the  younger 
sons  of  the  nobility,  not  supposed  to  transact  business,  were  de- 
pendent for  a  living  upon  the  generosity  of  their  relatives.  (See 
Tatler,  256. 

Page  39,  line  20.  makes  a  may-fly.  Artificial  fly  used  in 
fishing. 

Page  40,  line  2.  carries  a  tulip-root.  The  mania  for  tulips, 
which  was  carried  to  so  great  an  extent  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, still  existed  in  a  mild  form.     « 

Page  41,  line  23.  quail-pipe.  Pipe  blown  to  call  or  attract 
quails. 

PAPER  No.  VIII. 

Page  43,  line  14.   human.     Distinguished  from  divine. 

Page  44,  line  7.  'Change.  Exchange.  Place  where  business 
is  transacted. 

PAPER  No.  IX. 

Page  48,  line  20.  carve  her  name.  (See  As  You  Like  It, 
Act  III.) 

Page  65,  line  11.   Martial.     A  Latin  poet,  born  43  a.d. 

Page  55,  line  12.  Dum  tacet  hanc  loquitur.  While  he  is  silent 
he  is  speaking  of  her. 

PAPER   No.   XI. 

Johnson  says  that  although  this  paper  was  written  by  Budgell, 
Addison  corrected  and  rewrote  it. 


NOTES  161 

Page  62,  line  3.  Bastile.  A  noted  prison  in  Paris.  Dur- 
ing the  French  Revolution  it  was  torn  down  by  the  infuriated 
mob.  Some  time  afterward  the  huge  key  was  presented  by 
Lafayette  to  George  Washington,  and  it  may  now  be  seen  at 
Mt.  Vernon.  (For  further  information  see  Bingham's  Bastille. 
London  :  Chapman  &  Hall,  1888.) 

Page  67,  line  24.  Monsieur  Pascal.  A  celebrated  French 
writer  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

In  connection  with  this  paper  read  Charles  Dudley  Warner's 
A' Hunting  of  the  Deer. 

PAPER   No.   XII. 

Witchcraft  had  lost  its  hold  on  the  minds  of  educated  people, 
but  the  belief  still  prevailed  among  ignorant  ones.  The  last 
person  tried,  found  guilty,  and  condemned  to  capital  punish- 
ment was  Jane  Wenham,  and  she  was  finally  pardoned.  Her 
trial  occurred  in  1712. 

PAPER  No.   XIII. 

Was  there  anything  in  Addison's  own  experience  that  would 
enable  him  to  understand  Sir  Roger's  feeling  for  the  widow  ? 

PAPER  No.    XIV. 

Page  85,  line  9.  For  description  of  head-dress  see  Spectator, 
No.  98. 

PAPER   No.    XV. 

Page  86,  line  20.  within  the  Game-Act.  No  person  possess- 
ing less  than  forty  pounds  a  year  was  allowed  to  shoot  game. 


162  NOTES 

Page  87,  line  13.   has  cast.     Defeated  in  a  lawsuit. 

Page  87,  line  15.  going  upon  the  old  business  of  the 
willow-tree.  Tom  Touchy  was  probably  going  to  the  county 
assizes  to  continue  a  long-standing  lawsuit  involving  a  willow 
tree. 

Page  90,  line  14.  Saracen's  Head.  The  English  took  pleas- 
ure in  picturing  the  Saracens  with  ugly  faces. 

PAPEE  No.   XVI. 

Page  92,  line  23.  particular.     Individual. 

Page  93,  line  10.  Plutarch.  A  Greek  writer  living  in  first 
century  a.d.  His  best  known  work  is  his  Parallel  Lives  of 
Greeks  and  Romans. 

Page  93,  line  19.    great  rule.     Luke  vi.  27-32. 

Page  95,  line  21.  Guelphs  and  Ghibellines.  The  Guelphs 
claimed  that  the  Popes,  the  spiritual  heads,  should  also  be  at  the 
head  in  temporal  affairs  ;  the  Ghibellines  demanded  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  emperors  ;  and  for  three  centuries  during  the  Middle 
Ages  the  two  factions  involved  Germany  and  Italy  in  a  disastrous 
struggle.  (See  "House  of  Hohenstaufen "  in  a.uj  History  of 
the  Middle  Ages. ) 

Page  95,  line  23.  the  League.  The  "  Catholic  League  "  (1576) 
formed  "to  uphold  the  Catholic  Church;  to  suppress  heresy; 
and  to  maintain  the  honor,  the  authority,  and  prerogatives  of 
the  most  Christian  king  and  his  successors."  (See  History  for 
Beady  Beferenee,  Vol.  IL,  p.  1206.) 


NOTES  163 

PAPER   No.  XVII. 

Page  99,  line  2.  Cassandra.  A  prophetess,  daughter  of 
Priam.  Apollo,  angry  with  her,  commanded  people  not  to  be- 
lieve her  predictions. 

Page  99,  line  12.  line  of  life.  Line  in  the  hand  called  the 
life  line. 

PAPER  No.  XVIII. 

Page  104,  line  18.  "  White  Witch. "  Distinction  was  usually- 
made  between  the  white  and  the  black  witch.  The  white,  or 
good  witch,  helped  to  prevent  or  cure  diseases  in  men  or  beasts  ; 
the  black,  or  bad  one,  caused  them. 

Page  107,  line  7.  Commonwealth's  men.  Addison  here 
means  men  who  are  tired  of  the  rule  of  one  person  and  wish 
for  a  government  by  the  people. 

PAPER  No.  XIX. 

Page  111,  line  19.  right  we  had  of  taking  place.  Roads 
were  often  so  bad  that  one  team  must  stop  before  another  could 
pass.  The  rule  was  that  the  one  going  to  London  should  have 
right  of  way,  and  the  one  coming  from  the  city  must  turn 
aside. 

PAPER  No.  XX. 

Page  113,  line  10.   Ramage  de  la  Ville.    Warblers  of  the  town. 
Page  113,  line  21.   crack.     Crank. 

Page  114,  line  14.  Cries  of  London.  The  streets  were  alive 
with  the  numerous  cries  of  the  venders  of  food,  old  clothes, 


164  NOTES 

household  articles,  ranging  from  "Delicate  cowcumbers  to 
pickle"  to  "Maids,  buy  a  Mopp."  (See  Ashton's  Social  Life 
in  the  Beign  of  Queen  Aiine^  Chap.  XXXV.) 

Page  114,  line  16.  freeman.  One  who  has  the  right  to  sell 
his  goods. 

Page  115,  line  7.   note  above  ela.     Above  A. 

PAPER  No.  XXI. 

Page  120,  line  12.  Prince  Eugenio.  A  celebrated  Austrian 
general,  who  distinguished  himself  during  the  war  of  the  Spanish 
succession  (1701-1714).  (See  Gardiner's  Studenfs  History  of 
England,  Chap.  XLIV.) 

Page  120,  line  14.  Scanderbeg.  An  Albanian  commander 
of  the  fifteenth  century. 

Page  123,  line  11.  securing  the  Church  of  England.  By  re- 
quiring all  holders  of  office  under  the  crown  to  belong  to  the 
Church  of  England. 

Page  124,  line  1.  Procession.  To  show  opposition  to  the 
Catholic  religion  the  Pope's  head  in  effigy  was  carried  in  the 
procession. 

Page  125,  line  2.    Supplement.     Extra  edition. 

PAPER  No.  XXII. 
Page  125,  line  14.   the  tombs.     (See  Spectator,  No.  26.) 
Page  126,  line  19.   sickness  being  at  Dantzic.     Great  plague 
of  1709. 


NOTES  165 

Page  128,  line  4.  Sir  Cloudesley  Shovel.  An  English 
admiral. 

Page  128,  line  8.  Busby.  Richard  Busby,  an  English  in- 
structor of  the  seventeenth  century. 

Page  128,  line  18.   Cecil.    Lord  Burleigh. 

Page  128,  line  20.  figure.  Statue  of  Elizabeth  Russell.  Story 
referred  to  is  not  authentic. 

Page  129,  line  4.  coronation  chairs.  There  are  two.  The 
old  coronation  chair  was  made  for  Edward  I. ;  the  new  one  was 
made  in  1689  for  Queen  Mary.  The  English  monarchs  are  all 
crowned  in  the  old  coronation  chair. 

Page  130,  line  2.  evil.  King's  evil,  or  scrofula.  "Anne 
was  the  last  of  a  long  line  of  sovereigns,  from  Edward  the  Con- 
fessor, who  exercised  the  supposed  royal  gift  of  healing." 
(See  Ashton's  Social  Life  in  the  Beign  of  Queen  Anne.) 

Page  130,  line  16.  Sir  Richard  Baker.  An  English  writer  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  author  of  Chronicle  of  the  Kings  of 
England.     (See  Encyclopoedia  Britannica,  Vol.  III.) 

PAPER  No.    XXIII. 

Page  131,  line  9.  new  tragedy.  The  Distressed  Mother,  by 
Ambrose  Philips. 

Page  131,  line  12.   Gommittee.     Play  by  Sir  Robert  Howard. 

Page  131,  line  21.  Mohocks.  A  lawless  gang  who  made  it 
their  business  to  be  on  the  streets  assaulting  people  and  destroy- 
ing movable  property.     Ashton  says  the  name  probably  came 


166  NOTES 

from  the  North  American  Indians.      (See  essay  No.  324  in 
Spectator.) 

PAPER   No.    XXIV. 

Page  138,  line  22.    old  put.     FooUsh  or  clownish  fellow. 

Page  140,  line  17.  book.  Paradise  Lost,  which  Addison  had 
been  criticising. 

Page  140,  line  20.    lines.     Paradise  Lost,  Book  X.,  888-908. 

PAPER  No.    XXV. 

Page  143,  line  8.  Vauxhall.  Vauxhall  Gardens,  sometimes 
called  Spring  Garden,  was  a  pleasure  resort  on  the  Thames 
River.    It  is  now  built  over. 

Page  144,  line  4.  fifty  new  churches.  These  were  built  by 
Act  of  Parliament. 

PAPER  No.   XXVI. 

Eustace  Budgell  in  the  Bee  (February,  1773)  said  of  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley ,  ' '  Mr.  Addison  was  so  fond  of  this  character  that  a 
little  before  he  laid  down  the  Spectator  (foreseeing  that  some 
nimble  gentleman  would  catch  up  his  pen  the  moment  he  quitted 
it),  he  said  to  an  intimate  friend,  with  a  certain  warmth  in  his 
expression  which  he  was  not  often  guilty  of,  '  I'll  kill  Sir  Roger, 
that  nobody  else  may  murder  him.'  " 


BOOKS  PRESCRIBED  FOR  COLLEGE 
ENTRANCE  EXAMINATIONS. 


For  Reading, 

Cooper — Last  of  the  Mohicans. 
Dryden  —  Palamon  and  Arcite. 
Addison  —  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley. 
Goldsmith  —  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 
Coleridge  —  Ancient  Mariner. 
De  Quincey  —  Revolt  of  the  Tartars. 
Pope  — Iliad,  Books  I.,  VI.,  XXII., 
XXIV. 


1899. 


For  Study. 


Shakespeare  —  Macbeth. 

Milton  — Paradise    Lost,    Books    I. 
and  II. 

Burke  —  Speech  on  Conciliation. 

Carlyle—  Essay  on  Burns. 


For  Reading, 


1900. 


Tennyson  —  The  Princess. 

Scott  —  Ivanhoe. 

De  Quincey  —  Revolt  of  the  Tartars. 

Pope  — Iliad,  Books  I.,  VI.,  XXII., 

XXIV. 
Cooper  —  Last  of  the  Mohicans. 
Dryden  —  Palamon  and  Arcite. 
Addison  —  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley. 
Goldsmith  — Vicar  of  Wakefield. 


For  Study, 


Macaulay  —  Essays  on  Milton  and 

Addison. 
Burke  —  Speech  on  Conciliation. 
Shakespeare  —  Macbeth. 
Milton — Paradise    Lost,    Books    I. 

and  II. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY, 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,   NEW  YORK, 


BOOKS  PRESCRIBED  FOR  COLLEGE 
ENTRANCE  EXAMINATIONS. 


For  Reading. 


1901. 


Eliot  —  Silas  Marner. 

Shakespeare  —  Macbeth. 

Pope  — Iliad,  Books  I.,  VI.,  XXII., 

XXIV. 
Addison  —  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley. 
Goldsmith  —  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 
Coleridge  —  Ancient  Mariner. 
Tennyson  —  The  Princess. 
Scott  —  Ivanhoe. 
Cooper — Last  of  the  Mohicans. 


For  Study. 


Shakespeare —  Macbeth. 

Milton  —  L' Allegro,    II    Penseroso, 

Comus,  and  Lycidas. 
Burke  —  Speech  on  Conciliation. 
Macaulay  —  Essays  on  Milton  and 

Addison. 


For  Reading. 


1902. 


Pope  — Iliad,  Books  I.,  VI.,  XXII., 

XXIV. 
Addison  —  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley. 
Coleridge  —  Ancient  Mariner. 
Eliot  —  Silas  Marner. 
Shakespeare  —  Merchant  of  Venice. 
Tennyson  —  The  Princess. 
Scott  —  Ivanhoe. 
Cooper  —  Last  of  the  Mohicans. 
Goldsmith  —Vicar  of  Wakefield. 


For  Study, 


Shakespeare  —  Macbeth. 
Burke  —  Speech  on  Conciliation. 
Milton  —  L'Allegro,    II     Penseroso, 

Comus,  and  Lycidas. 
Macaulay  —  Essays  on  Milton  and 

Addison. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY, 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,   NEW  YORK. 


Exercises  in  Rhetoric  and  English 
Composition^ 

By  GEORGE  R.   CARPENTER, 

Proftssor  of  Rhetoric  and  English  Composition,  Columbia  College. 

HIGH   SCHOOL  COURSE.        SEVENTH   EDITION. 
i6mo.     Cloth.     Price  75  cents,  net. 

ADVANCED   COURSE.      FOURTH   EDITION. 
i2mo.     Cloth.     Price  $1.00,  net. 


**  This  work  gives  the  student  the  very  gist  and  germ  of  the  art  of  composi- 
tion." —  Public  opinion. 

"  G.  R.  Carpenter,  Professor  of  Rhetoric  and  English  Composition  in  Colum- 
bia College,  has  prepared  a  work  under  the  title  of  *  Exercises  in  Rhetoric  and 
English  Composition,'  in  which  not  so  much  the  science  of  Rhetoric  is  mapped 
out  and  defined  as  the  practical  workings  of  the  art  are  furnished  to  the  student 
with  just  enough  of  the  principles  to  guide  him  aright.  The  author  gives  an 
abundance  of  exercises  for  the  student  to  study  and  analyze,  and  this  is  the  very 
best  kind  of  help.  The  scheme  of  the  subject-matter  is  somewhat  unique  and 
novel,  but  it  is  comprehensive  and  lucid.  ...  A  very  serviceable  and  suggestive 
book  to  read  and  consult."  —  Education. 

"  The  text  represents  the  substance  of  teaching  which  a  freshman  may  fairly 
be  expected  to  compass,  and  it  is  set  forth  with  a  clearness  and  directness  and 
brevity  so  admirable  as  to  make  the  volume  seem  almost  the  realization  of  that 
impossible  short  method  of  learning  to  write  which  has  often  been  sought  for, 
but  never  with  a  nearer  approach  to  being  found.  .  .  .  We  do  not  hesitate  to 
give  unreserved  commendation  to  this  little  book."  —  The  Nation. 

"  Seldom  has  so  much  good  common  sense  been  put  within  so  brief  a  space." 
—  The  Boston  Herald. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY, 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,   NEW  YORK. 


Studies  in  Structure  and  Style* 

BASED  ON  SEVEN  MODERN  ENGLISH  ESSAYS. 

By  W.  T.  BREWSTER,  A.M., 

Tutor  in  Rhetoric  and  English  in  Coluynbia  University. 

With  an  Introduction  by  G.  R.  Carpenter,  A.B.,  Professor  of  Rhetoric  and 
English  Composition  in  Columbia  University. 

Cloth.     i2mo.     $i.io. 

The  Seven  Essays  referred  to  are  :  J.  A.  Froude's  *'  The  Defeat  of  the  Span- 
ish Armada,"  R.  L.  Stevenson's  *'  Personal  Experience  and  Review,"  John 
Morley's  '*  Macaulay,"  Matthew  Arnold's  *'  On  the  Study  of  Celtic  Literature," 
James  Bryce's  **  The  Strength  of  American  Democracy,"  John  Ruskin's  "  The 
Crown  of  Wild  Olive,"  and  J.  H.  Newman's  "  What  is  a  University?  " 

It  is  of  too  recent  publication  to  have  been  in  class-room  use,  but  will  be 
introduced  at  the  beginning  of  another  school  year  in  a  number  of  schools. 


"It  is  well  conceived,  and  the  selections  are  excellent  for  their  purpose."  — 
Prof.  Felix  E.  Schelling,  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

"  The  selections  seem  to  be  chosen  with  good  judgment,  and  the  notes  to 
be  careful  and  instructive."  — Prof.  Fred  P.  Emery,  Dartmouth  College ^ 
Hanover,  N.H. 

"  I  am  even  more  pleased  with  the  book  than  I  had  expected  to  be.  ...  I 
shall  certainly  try  to  introduce  the  book  into  one  of  my  classes  next  fall."  — 
Miss  Anna  H.  Smith,  High  School,  Binghamton,  N.Y. 

**  *  Studies  in  Structure  and  Style '  is,  I  think,  the  best  book  of  the  kind  that 
has  yet  appeared,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  recommend  it  to  my  classes."— Prof. 
Edwin  M.  Hopkins,  University  of  Kansas,  Lawrence,  Kan. 

"  I  have  delayed  to  acknowledge  Brewster's  *  Studies  in  Structure  and  Style,' 
which  you  kindly  sent  me,  until  I  could  examine  it  with  some  care.  That  exami- 
nation is  very  satisfactory.  The  selections  are  well  chosen,  and  the  comments 
both  on  their  structure  and  their  style  are  distinctly  valuable.  The  wofk  can 
hardly  fail  to  be  of  large  service."  —  MiSS  E.  G.  Willcox,  Wellesley  College,  Mass. 


THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY, 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,   NEW  YORK. 


14  DAY  USE 

Rli'lURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

.       'Miul'65W8 

i 

REC'D  LD 

JUL17'65-in/\M 

>e  74047 


•     '*  ^. 


')  "\-',:;Vc  ■  V/''  >*■"' 


}  •,         V      v^'-; 


